Before Witch
by RabidMantisGirl
Summary: Centuries before the most powerful witch to ever walk the Realms was a gleam in the Darkness, there was a witch across the Realm that lost her throne to slavery, and came as close to Witch as any Blood ever had, gaining Allies from unexpected places.
1. Chapter 1: Terrielle

**_Prologue_:**

_I have taught my daughter well. She has the makings of a Black widow. I too, am such, and I have seen things in my Tangled Web, that I heeded without hesitation. I know what ever I teach my girl, she will need in the future. I pray to the darkness that my children will come out safe and whole. I know there is something terrible being held in the future. It disturbs me that I have not found myself in my Tangled Webs, nor have I seen my husband. However, I suppose it is not in a Black widow's power to see her own fate. _

_My Daughter will find a way to make it through whatever is harboring in the distance, and she will fight back with every ounce that she is. From the day she was born, I knew she would be powerful. I could sense her abilities even from within the womb. At the moment she was old enough to learn, I taught her the Craft of the Black Widow, and how to take care of herself, with her powers. I also taught her how to suppress her psychic scent, so she would seem nothing more than a sapphire-jeweled witch._

_May the Darkness be merciful to her, and aid her well._

**Entry 27: 11:23 pm, Spring of the 18**th year of Lady Macaeiles

The day started off well enough. But it quickly warped. The men who have shown up within the past month were acting strangely. They looked funny whenever they looked towards my cousin or me or my mother, or Aunt. Some of the men are foreign. One can tell because they don't have any of the common traits of the people of my territory, and they hold themselves differently. They were acting more agitated today. It was most peculiar. All I know is that the man who claims to be my father's relative is the most unnerving. He frightens me. I haven't seen his jewel, but I can tell by his psychic scent that he wears something dark. I pray the morning will bring with its light, peace.

**Chapter 1**: Terrielle

The sun rose, just peeking over the mountains that loomed behind the Fortress known as the Akryln. The light bathed the land; the fields, the forests, and the waters. It was a warm and welcoming day, something that seemed to prove to be a good fortune. As the sun became higher in the sky, the light it gave out softened from a brilliant red to a luminescent yellow, to white. The red of the barely risen sun crept up the window sill, and into the room, cascading upon the floor of the east tower of the Akryln. Red. An old saying among sailors spoke true of what the significance of the rising red meant. The Black widows called it Blood on the moon. However it was referred to, it wasn't a good sign.

The room in the East tower had a bed, and a chest and a closet, and whatever furniture the occupant deemed necessary. The bed's covers were pulled out in many directions, a good portion of a comforter sprawled on the floor. A chair was over-turned. The chamber door was swinging open only a crack, from a slight draft.

The sun's light slowly moved from the back wall of that tower, to the floor to the doorway, and seeped past the crack of the open door, and into the corridor. The large corridor in the East tower of the Akryln, when its contents were illuminated, was not much different from the red light that bathed the walls.

Much like the blood.

The blood smattered on the walls, and wiped across the floor. The blood from the servants who worked the corridor. Blood of the family who ruled the Territory.

Deep within the fortress, below the massacred scene, there was bitter laughter heard. It was deep, and throaty; someone who was not on the receiving end of a lash.

The whistle of a whip sang for a moment, before a snap echoed throughout the basement of the Fortress.

In the dark, and dulled light of the bottom dungeon, a white-haired man stood. He wasn't a small, frail, fool. He was a very burly, capable male, who knew what he was doing and what he wanted. On the wall opposite him, forced upright by the chains, and the ropes, hung the Queen. Her sapphire jewel; hung loosely around her neck, didn't seem to have any strength in it. It seemed lifeless.

And she knew it. She had shattered her Jewel in the attempt to keep the men from taking over. Most of her guards men had been replaced by frauds, and spies. They locked the Fortress so no one could escape, and no one could enter. They came in the dead of night. First with her son, Adonias, they came and took him. She heard him scream when they grabbed him, and hauled him out of his room. And before she could do anything to help what was left of her family, the guards broke down her chamber door, and threw up shields around them immediately.

In the hall of the east tower, she watched her husband be slain by the white-haired man. Four servants died before her, caught in the energy assault between her and the man.

She lost control at the point of her husband's death, and her powers just went everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

It had been a long, hard night, indeed. They all fought to keep the enemy at bay, throughout the night. In the end, however, it proved futile, and they were over-taken, and held prisoner in the basement of their own fortress.

It had been a night of whiplashes, and abuse beyond anything she had ever known. She feared how her children were being handled. Her daughter... No. She mustn't think of what could happen to her daughter. Every now and then she would hear a cry and scream that followed the strike of a whip.

Breathing hard, she raised her head to face her tormentor.

"Why?" she rasped, trying to put edge in her voice. He only looked at her maliciously, and stroked the tail of his whip. "Lady," he scoffed, "I am a man with ambition. You and your family stood in the way."

She scowled at him as he turned, finished with his torture. Her clothes were torn and bloody. Her brown hair had fallen out, and was tangled and crusty with blood. Her skin was bruised, and rubbed raw by the metal cuffs that pulled her to the wall.

The man stopped a few paces later, and turned his head slightly to look back at her. "Oh, and one more thing." he drawled as he pulled out a knife. It was long, but light. The blade gleamed in the dulled light, and she was only able to see the glinted silver once before everything went black.


	2. The Taking

_** Terrielle**_

1

They had been traveling since first light. The girl's eyes ached when she was pushed out and up from the gloomy dungeon where they had been held captive for hours now, and into the red morning haze. She wondered where her mother and brother were. Where was her father? She couldn't feel his psychic scent anymore, and that bothered her. She was beginning to get very worried about them.

The rough carriage ride to a landing web had irritated her cuts, and lashes from the whip strokes. They had even threatened to cut her if she didn't comply to what they asked.

She was the heir to the throne of the Territory. She was not an extraordinary witch. Only some sapphire-jeweled princess who hadn't the taste of a hard life. However, because she was the throne and could present a problem if kept around the castle even as a slave there, it could start an uprising. And there was no room in their master's plan for an uprising. So what better way to make some gold marks? She was attractive, and would probably be stripped of her witch's title sooner than she could be sold. And Lord Roselv would see to that.

The party reached the landing web. The sun was a little past its' mid-point in the sky, and Ares was dragged out of the carriage, screaming. She flailed, and kicked her legs to try to make the men let go of her, but that only caused another to grab her legs, and the one holding her torso cover her mouth. At this struggle, her sapphire jewel fell out of her shirt, and bounced around on her chest.

The brown haired man, Lord Roselv, had been keeping an eye on the scene, but when the metal of the necklace caught his eyes, he came over. He then snatched the jewel up, and studied it. "You're a sapphire witch?" he snarled to her. She kept struggling to get free. Then she figured it out: use your Craft. So she silently collected her power, and waited for her strength to grow. It reached it's breaking point right when Roselv was about to snap the chain, and take her last reminder of home, and power. She let her power burst free, knocking the two men away from her. Lord Roselv was thrown away as well, but not as far. Ares snatched her jewel out of his grasp right before he fell backward, almost taking it with him. _He must have a darker rank_. She thought to herself. She took her captors' moment of surprise to escape. She ran towards the trees that lined the landing web, using Craft to propel herself to get away. She was almost there. Just a little further...

She heard the men shouting at her to return, and she felt the power building up behind her from them, but she ignored them. Her goal was to make it to the forest. So close...

Something flew from behind her, and slammed into her back. Square on the spine. It knocked the air out of her, as she stumbled, and was thrown a few feet before harshly landing in the dirt with a cry of anguish.

"Is there a problem here, Lord Roselv?" it was a harsh, and biting voice that belonged to an older man. He looked down on the brown-haired man, who was still on the ground. Roselv looked up at his superior, and stuttered, trying to think of what to say. "You men. Go and pick her up, and hold her in the coach." he said gruffly.

"L-Lord Darius." Roselv stuttered. Lord Darius was a thin, ailing man of about 60. He had white hair, and walked with a cane, that he now leaned heavily on, peering down at his incompetent subordinate. His red jewel hung about his neck, glinting dangerously, cooling from the power he had just summoned.

"Don't let this happen again." he warned with a mean edge to his voice. "And if you allow her to make a scene in a more populated area, I will be forced to take measures you will not appreciate." the elderly man hissed. Then he sharply turned away from the younger Warlord, and limped over to the Coach. Roselv pulled his lips back in a silent snarl. He then snapped his head around to face the Coach, where he could hear the girl yelling, and making sounds of distress. It was her fault he wasn't making a good impression. He had been about to deliver a strike of power, but Darius had acted too soon.

After a quick scan of the clearing, Roselv turned and walked to the Coach. He stepped up the stairs and closed the door just in time to see the girl cuffed for biting one of the men. He grinned in approval, but he wished he could have been the one to do the act.

Ares was so shocked by the smack across her face, she was stunned silent. She went very still, and didn't even try to struggle when the men pushed her upright, and sat her in a seat. The elderly man sat on the same seat, looking stern, and unhappy at his followers. He held his red jewel as a flicker of power arose, and she felt the Coach encased by his shield. Soon, the Coach began to move.

Ares felt tears welling up in her eyes, as the stinging from the smack subsided a little. She glanced at the men once , and finally realized what was happening. She wasn't ever to see those she loved again. She was lost.

She leaned her head on the wall of the Coach, and closed her eyes.


	3. Cries to the Deaf

2

When Ares awoke again, it was later in the day. The party was no longer in the coach but on a wagon going over-land. She was lying precariously towards the back of the tailgate, being jostled around with the other men. There were two horses pulling the covered wagon and she heard their hooves make a clip-clopping sound as they walked the stone road.

She pushed her self up, only barely. Her hands were bound behind her back and her legs, she found this time, were also tied. For a moment, she panicked and tried to find where her jewel had gone. To her relief, it had twisted to her back, so that the chain hung almost out of sight, whereas the actual jem was hanging behind her. She sighed, pleased that her source of power wasn't stolen. She then quickly, and silently, made the jewel vanish from her neck, to the safe that contained her ring, that she kept hidden with her craft.

"Where are we?" she asked softly. One of the men glanced at her, and then went back to looking out over the road. The White-haired man looked behind him, when he heard her voice and said gruffly, "No place, Child. Now go back to sleep." She furrowed her brow at him, and pulled herself up into the wagon more. Ares laid her head down on the straw and planks, and fell asleep.

* * *

Some time later, Ares felt her body be moved abruptly, and she opened her eyes to see a dark sky. There was the faint glow from a camp fire by a tree and she was able to see past the man's shoulders to see two men sitting by it. She recognized one as the elderly man and the other as the brown-haired man. She fell unconscious into the man's arms when she felt a bolt of pressure sweep through her head.

* * *

She woke to the feeling of movement beside her. There was something going on in the dark. When she opened her eyes, she saw one of the two men used for labor pulling the blanket off her. Then she felt his hands move all around her sides, and chest. Her eyes went wide. She tried to wiggle away, but it was made difficult by the bonds on her feet and hands. She was too slow and didn't have time to get away before the man straddled her and held her down. 

She let out a yelp and tried to scream, but her covered her mouth. She started breathing harder, and fear crept its' way into her mind. She tried kicking, but her ankles were bound together, and he was on top of her.

How was she to get out of this?

Finally, she had an idea. She used her Craft to undo the bonds on her feet, and almost managed to undo her arms, but her concentration was averted when she felt the man move his hands down to her waste. She reacted in fear, and managed to kick his back with her knee, driving it in. He lunged forward, and hissed in pain. Then she kicked him again, and just nearly had her arms free. She managed to use more Craft to give her strength and push the man off of her. By this time, she screamed loud and long as she scrambled to get up. The man grabbed her ankle and pulled her down. She screamed again.

Startled awake by the commotion of the shrieks of the girl, Lord Darius sat up and looked about in the dark. He groped blindly for his cane and when he found it, pushed himself up. He then stumbled on Roselv as he hobbled toward the noise. Roselv woke up, after the kick, and followed the old man. There was another scream. He went faster, trying to see. He lit a tongue of Witchfire in his hand and stumbled to a halt when he saw the witch on the ground, disheveled, and free of her bonds. Then he looked over to see one of the labor men dragging her towards him by her ankle.

The man looked up instantly when he saw the light, and his eyes went huge. His movements were slow however, and his responses sluggish, which proved he had been drinking a lot earlier.

When the witch saw the men, she scrambled as hard as she could towards them, seeking help.

Roslev was about to laugh in mockery at her and allow the man to continue, but Lord Darius spoke up.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asked very sternly. His old gruff voice had that dangerous edge to it again.

The drunk man winced.

"This girl is not to be touched by any of you!" he almost yelled, but his voice began to quaver a little. He coughed once before continuing. "She is not our property. She will be left alone until she is sold. Then her masters can do whatever they please. But she is not to be touched." by this time, the other labor man had come over to see the commotion.

Lord Darius turned sharply, and muttered to Roselv before he left, "Get them away from her, and bind her again." Roselv turned his attention to the two on the ground. "You." he said, turning to the other laborer. " Take your friend, and get him out of here." he commanded. The witch sat trembling on the ground. Roselv looked down to her with disgust, and spread his lips in a terrible grin before kneeling down to her. She croaked something that sounded like a question.

"Am I to be sold into slavery?"

Lord Roselv snorted before replying, "Deary, you are a lost witch. You will never see your family or what you knew again. You are to become property, used in whatever fashion your owner commands." With that he grabbed her face in one hand and pulled in closer, so he could look into her eyes. "You're lucky that the Old Relic has a soft spot for children, or else you'd be a broken bitch now." And then he pressed his lips to her's and gave her a mocking, threatening kiss. She gasped when he let go, immediately spitting onto the ground between them. Roselv laughed maliciously, while he used Craft to materialize rope.

He laughed as he tied it around her hands, making it tighter than it was before. She snarled at him once, before he backhanded her and she fell to the ground. She went still again and he was able to tie her legs together with more ease. Then he hauled her up and swung her over his shoulder, moving her closer to the camp, so they could keep a watch on her. He dropped her, causing her to fall a foot or so, near the tree stump.

She landed with a thud and a yelp, but didn't move any more than that. She lay her head down on the ground and silently cried herself to sleep.

* * *

A/N- I hate this chapter, just thought you should know... 


	4. Arrival

3

The journey following that night went much the same as the others previous. The party traveled by day in the cart and stopped for the night for rest. In the morning they would do it all over again, and it carried on like this for three days.

Finally, Lord Darius allowed them to buy passage for a Coach to ride the Winds. The traveling went quicker when they rode the Winds. That didn't make Ares feel any better, nor did it help Lord Darius' uneasiness.

The man was constantly paranoid that someone was tailing them, trying to get the Heir back to her territory, but there never was anyone.

* * *

One night, Ares tried to contact someone on a psychic thread. It didn't matter who responded, just so long as she could get help. Maybe, she thought, she could get a hold of her family. Of her brother, of her cousin... was that too far? Was she too late?

She tried to not think like that.

She called out on every thread she could hold. She couldn't go below her sapphire jewel.

With her jewel being away from her and not around her neck, she felt disconnected from it, and awkward. She feared the distance hindered her powers and craft abilities. And that was something dangerous for a young witch among thieves.

However, on the night she tried for contact, the younger Warlord noticed her concentration and studied her psychic aura, seeing what she was doing.

She had somehow managed to block the call for help from the men's minds, stopping him from hearing anything she might be saying.

So when he confirmed the links she was attempting to make, he strode over to her, furious at her devious plan, and back-handed her across the face. She flew to the ground, landing hard on her chest.

She groaned in pain.

"Stupid bitch!" Roselv yelled in fury. "How dare you try to contact! Do you think we're unaware of what you do! We know everything! That is why you will never get away and will never be free." he seethed. He stared murder into her body. She never bothered to turn her head to face him. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of causing her to cry, or for him to know he was causing her much pain.

Her head throbbed. She hoped she didn't have a concussion.

Roselv looked back down on her in disgust and raised his arm as if to strike her again, but then thought better of it. He felt Darius' presence close by. He didn't need to incur that Old Relic's wrath now. So he stomped away, muttering vivid curses.

Ares never got up.

* * *

Another three day's journey on the Winds settled them at the Landing Web at Raej, where the Slave Auctions were held.

Ares woke that morning with utter despair. She seemed so lifeless, that Darius almost pitied her. Once the Coach landed and the shield dropped, the door opened and the sun poured into the dimly lit cabin. The bright light hurt the girl's swollen eyes.

The men pushed her out of the Coach, while Roselv went to register for the sales.

Ares hadn't seen where Darius went. She was too preoccupied with trying to manage a way out. So she decided it was now or never.

As a last resort, she pushed away from one of the men that held her and used a blast of power to knock out the other, making a mad dash for the Coach. She had been working on the bindings on her legs for an hour now and had managed to loosen it up enough to slip one foot out.

Ares was able to make it to the steps of the Coach before a bolt of power was thrown for her head.

Instead of meeting its' mark, the power hit her on the back; between the shoulder blades. She flew forward and landed inside the Coach, her feet hanging on the stairs. She coughed, having the wind knocked out of her. She couldn't breathe for several moments and writhed on the floor. Then Lord Roselv walked over, obviously furious, and yanked her head up by pulling her hair.

"I thought we made it clear to you that you were not to try such a stunt again." he hissed into her ear. She only gasped for air, trying to regain the pressure she had in her lungs.

With that, Roselv snarled in raged frustration and threw her head back down. She only barely stopped it from hitting the floor.

"Lord Roselv." The brown haired Warlord turned upon hearing his name to see the stern old man standing a few feet away with an Auction Official. He leaned on his cane heavily and had a dismayed look about his face.

"Bring the girl. We are cleared for sales." Before the man turned to lead with the official, he gave Roselv a look that told the younger man that he shouldn't argue.

So he narrowed his eyes and turned, clearly aggravated and hauled the gasping girl up by an arm. His grip had bruising force as he grabbed her other arm and pushed/pulled her in the direction the other men had gone.

* * *

Once they made it into the main building and were shown the way to the cells for slaves, the Official left to resume his duties elsewhere, leaving the two Warlords with the girl.

Lord Darius still had his dismayed expression as he leaned towards Roselv and said very quietly, "Do what you need to humble this child."

Roselv grinned at that. He waited until Darius left the cell, before stringing the girl's arms up to the ropes that were connected to posts on either wall. Then he materialized his whip with Craft and rotated his wrist. He grinned at the girl, who finally raised her eyes to fearfully look at him.

"You have caused me great trouble and embarrassment." he said grimly, but the grin never left his face.

He raised his arm, pulling the whip back, readying it for a strike.

But before he could land it, the girl reacted. She had been building her strength, waiting for the moment to attack. She let a burst of power careen to the man in front of her. The expression on her face was something distant, as if she were in a different place and her eyes held a certain feral quality. It was very unnerving.

The burst of Sapphire energy crashed on the Warlord, causing him to fly backward into the bars of the door. He groaned as he steadied himself. He had been unprepared for the assault and now felt it in his gut the most. He clenched his teeth, riding out the pain. All the while, he glared death in the girl's direction, ignoring her haunting eyes.

A few minutes later, Roselv had composed himself, more or less, and took a step away from the door. He bared his teeth and glared at her.

"Bitch." he snarled. "You will pay for that."

As he said this, he raised his arm again and this time, the girl didn't do anything to react. So when the lash snapped on her shoulder, it was almost as if she was jolted back to her body. She gasped at first, as if surprised, and then her eyes raced for a moment, looking around. However, once the second lash had struck, she cried out in pain. The third strike proved to be even worse, when it contacted with her stomach. Then she screamed.

Roselv's grin returned at the sound.

* * *

Thank you so very much to my reviewers! I have had only nice things said about this story and am grateful that _someone_ has read this.

I'll try to remind myself to update, because I find myself going on my computer less and less.

Thank you again!

Ackie


	5. Harvester Of Sorrow

Chapter 2: Terrielle

1

By the time her torture ended, it was night and Ares was bruised and bloody all over again. When she was finally unstrapped from the ropes, she was in too much pain to react to much. Her muscles had cramped and her whole body was in agony.

Now she was in the blackness of her cell, with very little light seeping in from a torch down the hall and the moonlight shining in through her window. It was cold and damp in the cell, as she lay down on the dirty floor.

The girl didn't understand it. Something inside her had just snapped and reacted to the danger when the Warlord rose his arm for the strike. Something inside her told her to drop the bottom and sink into herself- to her jewel. It felt so wonderful to be reunited with direct contact of her Jewel, that she hadn't realized she had been building power. It was almost as if she were watching from far away as some other being threw the bolt of her strength at the Warlord. And once it hit him, she realized _she_ had done it.

Once a strike had actually made contact with her skin, it was almost as if the driving force that lashed out against her tormentor had just vanished. And when she tried to scramble up the energy to hit him again, she couldn't find a trace of it.

_What happened?_ She asked herself. It was almost as if she had temporarily drained her jewel with that one attack.

And now she was really paying for it. All of it. All of the attempts to escape and contact others. Even retaliations for the floggings she had received. She had never been hurt this much in her entire life.

Of course her mother had taught her the Black Widow's Craft, but she didn't know how to use it in this situation. And she hadn't had time to construct a Tangled Web. She was watched by her captors and constantlymonitored by Roselv. He must have been lighter-jeweled than she was. He always seemed to be one step behind her, not anticipating her next move. But then he would be there, more furious than ever because she had out-smarted him.

That caused Ares to grin a little. _Stupid Ass._ She thought wryly.

On a some-what pleasant thought, she allowed herself to fall victim to the fatigue that nagged at her.

* * *

2

Sometime later, Ares heard the clatter of keys and then the turning of the lock. She opened her eyes a little, but it didn't help any. There wasn't enough light in the cell. Then she heard footsteps follow the creaking of the door being opened. She turned her head a little and saw the silhouette of a man. Then he stepped into the moonlight, and she recognized the brown hair.

Roselv.

_What is he doing back now?_ She asked herself, as fear crept back into her spine. Finally, she moved, as if his presence had suddenly awoken her. "What are you doing here?" she asked hoarsely. Her voice was strained considerably from her earlier punishment.

All she heard in response was a bitter laughter.

And then before she knew what was happening, he was on top if her. She gasped at first and then tried to struggle to get away, but he clamped a hand around both of her small wrists and held them above her head. All of her muscles were stiff and everything was sore. It was agony to try to move so quickly.

Then she felt his free hand work feverishly to pull off her dress top. It was already ripped in several places from the lashings she had received, so Roselv just tore at the holes.

She began to scream. She knew no one would stop this man from doing whatever he pleased.

_No! No!_ She screamed in her head. Out loud, she only screamed wordless cries.

She feverishly grasped for her sapphire strength, but couldn't grip it. She was too afraid to think clearly. She couldn't concentrate.

Then Roselv's hand worked around her chest, running over her small breasts, and then down to her hips. Now she screamed in utter fear.

"NO!" she shrieked.

No matter how she screamed, the Warlord never stopped. He only laughed mockingly. She felt the fabric of her dress being pulled upward.

Then she felt his hand brush her inner thigh, and she whimpered, and cried out.

Ares was waiting for the worst to happen. To be violated by this sickening bastard.

But she never did.

Instead, the pressure of the man's body was suddenly off her, as she heard something contact with bone as Roslev yelped in pain. She looked up and saw the Warlord by the back cell wall, on his hands and knees, gagging and convulsing.

Then a shadow fell over her.

She looked to her left, and up. A huge looming figure stood above her, glaring at Roselv.

A torch had been lit outside of her cell and now she could see the men in the cell a little better.

When Ares looked into her savior's face, she scrambled to sit up, backing towards one of the farthest walls. _Mother Night_.

* * *

Oh, Dear Moses. What is this new drama I'm throwing in!

Yes, um...

Thank you to my reviewers...

And to _Archer of Darkness & Callie!_

I always get excited whenI get reviews and feedback. I have never written a story quite this 'graphic' for lack of a better word, so I hope you (all of my Legions) like it- to an extent.

Thank you again!


	6. Hero Of the day

_Part II_

* * *

Ares watched, wide-eyed, as the huge man took a few more steps into the cell.

When Roselv had gained enough breath to speak, he pushed himself up onto his knees with effort, gasping, "You... you bastard!" Finally, he managed to get to his feet and he leaned against the cell wall, holding his right side, as if his ribs were broken. He took a few more breaths and then almost yelled in a hoarse voice, "You will pay!"

Roselv suddenly hit the wall again, bumping his head. Hard. The cell hummed with angry energy. It crackled and then snapped around the huge man.

Ares then realized he had been lashing out with his own jeweled strength.

In the time it took for Roselv to recover from the strike, the man had bent down, and gently pulled Ares up. The girl flinched, but immediately felt calmed once she looked into his eyes. They were a calming sky-blue. She felt entranced by them.

A snarl was heard from the corner of the cell and Ares felt a bolt of power be directed at the man. It hit him, she knew that much. But he didn't show it. Instead, he snapped his head around to face Roselv, who had a bloody bump on his forehead and then took a protective step in front of the girl.

Roselv couldn't believe this. The bastard wasn't even being effected by his attacks._ He's nothing but a lowly slave. How could he have enough power to deflect? _If only he had a controlling ring.

_Oh, _he thought. Then a malicious grin crossed his face. He laughed at the slave who had interrupted him, no matter how much it hurt.

Ares heard some shouts from the guards down the hall. She knew what Roselv had done; the coward. She tried building her own energy to strike him, but she was interrupted by a gruff, growling voice in her head.

_You'll be okay._ He said on a secluded thread; spear to distaff. Ares turned in astonishment to look into the eyes of her Savior once again. The light of the torch hit them so she could see a dangerous flicker light behind the blue, making them appear icy. _Don't let them take you without a fight. You are never lesser than they are._

Ares was so grateful for his help, that she almost wrapped her arms around him. But footsteps were heard coming down the hall. It sounded like three guards and another, with swifter and lighter steps.

Suddenly, the man began to growl, as if in pain, and he bared his teeth. His long hair fell into his face as he hunched a little. The footsteps ceased and Ares noticed the three guards standing in the hall.

The Savior pushed her, abruptly, and she fell into a dark corner, out of sight.

"This man attacked me!" Roselv yelled to the men, as he favored his side. One of the guards lit a tongue of Witchfire, so as to see better in the dimly-lit cell. Two of the guards came into the cell and hauled the large man up from his bent position.

When Ares saw his face, he looked like something was causing him great pain, but he was trying to conceal it. However, as she looked into his face, she saw a quick flash in the man's sky-blue eyes. Something feral crept into them.

With a snarl, he wrenched his arm free of one of the guard's grips, throwing him to the corridor floor. Then he bared his teeth and with a nasty sound, thrashed the other guard to the ground. The man lay dazed on the floor and as the Savior was about to deliver the fatal blow, his knees gave out and he fell to them, with an agonized roar.

Ares almost ran to him, when a woman stepped into view. She was tall and slender, wearing a plain grey dress and she held her hand out, palm down.

Ares thought she saw a glint on the ring the woman wore, when the man who saved her let out an anguished cry.

"Chain him, and bring him back to his cell." The woman commanded in a cold and harsh voice. Slowly, the other two guards approached and apprehensively cuffed his wrists and ankles as the man futilely thrashed on the floor. These cuffs were all linked to a center chain, which had another chain that hung, so one could pull on it as if it were a leash.

Again, the man hissed in pain and it almost broke Ares' heart.

Finally, the guards hauled the man up with great difficulty and dragged him down the corridor.

The woman turned her attention to the remaining guard, who shakily got himself up from the floor and she mumbled something sharp. Roselv stepped towards the cell's opening, and asked snappishly, "Was that _your_ slave?"

The Woman only delivered him a glare, and said icily, "Aren't you a blood male? You couldn't defend yourself against _one slave_?"her tone became biting, "No. You're too busy defiling little girls-defenseless girls." She ended it by giving him a searing look and he lowered his head in aggravated defeat. Roselv limped off with the remaining guard.

The woman waited until they were gone and then she sighed, annoyed, and turned around to face Ares; who thought she was invisible in the shadowed corner.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked like she was at her patience' end. Ares snapped back to what was happening and tried to focus on the figure before her. She managed to nod her head once.

"You're lucky Val escaped. He never was one that would stand for atrocities like those. Even if it is on a slave." The woman said, as she looked at Ares' torn shirt, and the white smooth skin that now showed under the torn cloth. She looked the girl in the eye and asked with a hard stare, "You haven't been a slave for long, have you?" Ares kind of looked at her and she felt like she would cry.

The woman sighed, annoyed and with a flip of her hand, made a jar appear onto her palm. "Here." She said as she poured a little out onto her palm and put her fingers in it. Ares jerked back when her hand came forward to her face. The woman made an annoyed sound that matched her expression, muttering "Hell's Fire," but then gently smoothed the substance on her hand into the girl's face.

"This will make the swelling go down and any scars you might have, go away. You'll want to be sold to a good owner tomorrow."

Ares thought she would cry again, but she fought off the tears. When the lady wiped her hand on a cloth from her pocket, she gave the bottle to Ares and said sharply, "You know Craft, correct?" Ares nodded once. "Hide this and use it when you get hurt like that again."

The woman stood up and moved towards the cell door. "Thank you." Ares managed to meekly say. The woman paused at the door, looked behind her quickly and then left. She used craft to shut and lock the door.

Ares watched as the bars swung shut and with that, her life. She lay down on the floor, her back pressed against the wall and began to cry. A small breeze came in and she pulled what was left of her shirt and skirt up tight and wept.

However, she was grateful for the intervention of the Blue-eyed giant. To him, she owed her life.

* * *

Yes, I know, I left you all with a cliff hanger. But how else am I to keep you remotely interested with this terrible yarn?

Thank you for reading, My Legions!


	7. When the Levy Breaks

3

There was red sunlight peeking through the barred window. The sun was just beginning to rise as Ares opened her eyes and squinted them against the light.

_What a terrible night._ She thought. _I wonder what it meant?_ Then she looked around her and realized what happened was not just a bad dream.

It was all real.

But this time, instead of crying, Ares got up from the dirty, cold floor and stood in the center of the cell. She bowed her head and set herself to speak on a psychic thread. She used the sapphire thread to deliver her message. It was in her native tongue, a language that hadn't been used in so very long, but she was taught it despite that fact. She began a prayer, and all the while, began to collect all of her energy. Her jewels appeared on her finger and around her neck. They flashed in the sunlight as she summoned their strength.

* * *

Deep in the building, the blond haired man opened his eyes, as if he could feel something on the Winds. He could sense a growing power on the webs of the jewels.

A sapphire strength.

It was a collecting feeling, almost as if it was coming together to be stored. Waiting.

And then he heard a faint chanting on the Sapphire web.

* * *

With the last sentence of the prayer, she began to speak loudly and it became a haunting noise, as her power crackled around her. The floor beneath her feet began to glow with a bluish tint. The tint darkened until it resembled the color of her jewels. As Ares came to the last word, she unleashed her strength, and let it wash freely through the building.

For that moment, Ares dropped the veil she constantly had surrounding her psychic scent. The veil that stopped others from seeing who she truly was.

* * *

The man gasped as he felt the wash of Sapphire strength flood the building. He could feel a darkness in this power. It was a cleansing darkness.

The chanting became a haunted whisper, in a language he had never heard before. He closed his sky-blue eyes and descended within himself to the level of his birthright jewel. He lingered there for a few moments, getting a sense of this power that felt vaguely familiar.

Finally, he descended to one rank below; the Sapphire, and sucked in his breath.

It was cold and dark. The wind in the Abyss suddenly picked up and his hair flew about his face wildly. He gawked around him, taking in the scent, feeling the jeweled strength expand. The floor began to glow.

* * *

In that same moment, Ares pulled her power back to her with blinding force and she dove into the Abyss. The same chasm all the Blood called their strength from.

There was a blue light that flickered into the hall of the physical world, and then it flashed backward just as quickly.

* * *

The glowing floor became a bluish color and he gazed at it in amazement. He had never felt such a strength come from merely a _sapphire_.

The whisper became louder, and he could hear full words being chanted. Suddenly, a feminine psychic scent hit him like an ocean wave. He didn't have time to let out his breath before the same wave swept backward just as quickly as it had come.

* * *

The blue tint on the floor was gone, and Ares stopped chanting the prayer. Her jewels were gone and her power no longer choked the building.

She took a deep breath, allowing her powers to rejuvenate her torn skin.

She felt like a new creature. Ares would need this health if she was to stay strong that entire day.

May the Darkness help her.

* * *

The recoil of the wave slapped the man back upward to his physical awareness and he sat up, gasping for breath. He couldn't feel any of that dark sapphire power. No, that wasn't true. He _could_ still feel it. It was almost as if it were _in him_, because, oddly enough, he felt rejuvenated. His body no longer suffered from the pain he endured the night before. But, Mother Night.

Whoever the witch was that could summon that kind of strength...

* * *

Thank you again for your lovely reviews! I am so proud!

And I am just giggling with excitement over the name of this chapter too. I thought it was so apt. And a Zeppelin Song too!

I'll be away on vacation for the next week, so I'll update as soon as i can once I return. Do not fret, my Legions, your Admiral shall return.


	8. Enter Sandman

4

An hour later, a guard came to her cell with the old man, Lord Darius. He didn't look like he was doing well at all. He never said a word to her, or spoke really at all. There were more shadows in his face this morning than the day before, and he seemed anxious about something. The Guard cuffed her hands and ankles and led her out of the rotten cell.

* * *

Ares stayed muted as she was led up to the auction block, to stand before the mass of disgusting males and their haughty Queens. However, she was one of many to do so. There were about 15 or so more slaves ahead of her, standing at ready to climb to the stage and receive bidsonly tobe sold to the highest bidder. It made her feel disgusted. So, there she stood, waiting in a rather lengthy line, to be sold like cattle. She hoped, may the Darkness be merciful, that the rest of her family would not have to endure this humiliation.

Ares bowed her head in silent prayer for her family, and to ask the Darkness for the strength to carry on.

However, as she did this, she heard a familiar growling voice rumble over the other voices of the crowd. She furrowed her brow, in confusion as she lifted her head up to look to her left.

It was him. Her Savior. The man who saved her last night. How could she forget such a man? She heard what his growling voice was saying. A colorful string of explicatives to the guards who flanked him.

Ares watch in interest as the man walked. It didn't even occur to her that she was staring, or that he was heading in her direction; coming closer.

Her eyes went wide as she realized he was to stand next to her in the line for sale and she immediately dropped her head.

Once the guards had settled him in place beside her and muttered something to him, he let out a vicious-sounding snarl as they walked away. Ares flinched at the noise.

She looked at him, to see what she couldn't last night. He indeed, was huge. He loomed over her by about two feet or so. His shoulders were very broad and his arms were large and muscular. He had massive hands to compensate for his arms. His hair was a dulled blond, almost white on the outside, and got darker the closer it got to his head and neck, so that it almost looked dark brown. It was very long and wavy, even though he had some of it pulled back by a ribbon, but most had fallen out. She gazed into his eyes. The wonderful sky-blue she remembered that had calmed her the night before now seemed very tired and pained ... and angry? However, as she looked into his face, he looked younger than she originally thought. Maybe a few years older than she.

But that wasn't the only intimidating thing about him. He had a darkness to him she hadn't felt very often. He must have had a dark jewel, because she couldn't feel him before her's. Also, he had a certain ferocity about him. She had never felt this quality in a man before. It was like he was a dangerous entity, but a fierce protector all at once.

Ares looked back down before he could question her staring at him.

The man stood there in line, vaguely aware of his surroundings. He could feel that sapphire presence. It was very close, but it felt muted. He descended a few jewel ranks to get a better location, so he could track it. _Where was she?_

"What's your name?" the girl next to him asked sheepishly.

Ares frowned when he didn't respond immediately. Then he swayed a little and blinked, as if coming out of a void.

Like he was rising from within himself.

Then he looked down to his right, and let his gaze fall on the small, bruised figure next to him and rose an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" he asked politely. Ares noted that his voice didn't hold any of the edge that he had in it when he spoke to the guards. It was a very deep baritone, that contained the growl, but it was almost a soothing combination.

Ares summoned the courage to look up at him as she asked again, "What is your name?" she smiled a little.

He studied her a moment, as if trying to place where he had seen her. She seemed familiar in more than one way. He frowned as he tried to recall this girl. He knew he had met her before. It had been a very painful visit here. He wasn't sure of much at the moment.

He looked into her eyes, and his brow softened as he remembered. "You're the girl I helped last night." he said softly.

Ares looked down, as if ashamed for what happened, but then she thought better of it. "Yes." she answered firmly, looking back up to him. "And I wish to thank my Savior in person before we are separated." she added with a slight gesture to the Auction block.

The man contemplated the girl for a moment, eyeing her. She wasn't a threat. All she wanted was to thank him. He closed his eyes for a moment.

Suddenly, there was a roar of laughter from the crowd bidding on a slave. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a snap of angry energy flare next to him. _Sapphire energy_.

His eyes shot open and he looked down at the girl. He looked right into her eyes, as her head turned back to himand saw the answer that had eluded him all morning.

She was the witch. It had the same scent the wave of power had. But she was only a girl. How could she have such strength?

Pushing that question aside, as he realized she was looking at him strangely, he made up his mind.

"Valcan." he said quietly. But he almost stumbled over it, as if he wasn't used to saying it. Ares dismissed it, and collected his giant mitts with her small slender hands, and squeezed them. "Valcan." she said wistfully. "Thank you for your help. I owe you my life." then she shyly smiled, turning her head away.

* * *

Yes. I needed a good Metallica song for the name of this chapter and I couldn't settle. So there you go.

Yes. we meet Valcan, the hero of the innocent! The ass-kicker. He is awesome with his crazy hair and giant-likestature. And his voice is the best quality. I like writing about it.

Oh, and ps to the reviewer that asked for Ares' age. She's about 17 and thus, Valcan, being a few years older is about 19- almost 20. Thanks for reading!

I hope you enjoyed!


	9. Heaven Beside You

The blond-haired man, Valcan, couldn't believe the cheerfulness of this witch. Didn't she know she was about to be sold into slavery? Sold to a new master, a person who would own everything she was?

Valcan looked at her for only a moment with a dismayed expression, but knocked it off his face before she had time to notice.

Now he inspected her. If she was the witch that could summon that much energy, and hold it for a period of time like he thought she was doing, he needed to have her image imprinted on is mind.

She was of average height, with broad shoulders and long, thin arms. She was a little over the slender side, making her torso disproportionate to her arms, proving that she had not been a slave for long.

That and her skin didn't have any scars. Sure, it had the markings of the whip, but those were new. He studied her face when she looked up at him again. It was a thin face. She had distinct cheekbones, which caused her face to look slender; older, despite her age. Her hair was athick, full dark brown. Most of it had fallen out of whatever she used to hold it back, but it was oddly becoming. Her eyes were her most striking feature. They were the color of the ocean, but held a speck of brown in each iris. Almost as if her genes couldn't make a decision about what color to settle for. They seemed to just gaze at their surroundings and analyze, until the truth was seen. They were beautiful and exotic.

And yet there was more to her. Along with the dark energy he had finally identified, he couldn't place what was missing. It called to him however. It urged him to react to it, protect it. Whatever it was pricked his instincts like pins.

It wasn't easy being a Warlord Prince. The title never seemed to do him any good, except when he lashed out. Then it suited him fine.

The line began to move and Ares took a reluctant step. "What will happen once I am sold?" she asked quietly, looking at the ground. Valcan looked away and sighed.

"I've never had the pleasure of being a female servant, so I won't be right on the mark." he closed his eyes briefly, and opened them after a moment. When he opened his eyes, there seemed to be a dangerous glitter shining in them as he remembered past court experiences.

"Your new master will have you do hard labor, whether it be servicing him, or working the fields." The girl furrowed her brow at the former statement, but he continued. "Maybe you'll be lucky and will end up being a servant in the palace, or home."

"Have you done those things?" she asked. Valcan laughed bitterly. "I never had the luxury of doing menial chores, if that's what you mean."

Ares was a little confused by what he said. _Servicing him_? She never heard that term spoken quite like that. And what did he mean by_ menial chores? _The servants hired at her home were always very helpful and cheerful. They worked hard and took pride in what they did. She just didn't understand the man's bitterness in what he said.

Not wanting to linger on unhappy memories for the man, Ares decided to push her dreaded thoughts out of her mind. Before she could open her mouth to ask another, light-hearted question, the blond man spoke up first.

"So, what is your name?" he asked his tone had changed from bitter to light. She sighed with relief.

Ares smiled and looked up to him. "My name is Arelane. But I'm usually just called Ares." she fell silent a moment with an expression of pensive sorrow.

Valcan frowned. Ares. He liked it, but he wondered why it brought her spirit down.

"Where are you from?" the girl asked. He chewed his lip for a moment before answering. It had been so long since he had seen his home. "I came from a territory called Glacia."

Ares frowned at that. _Glacia?_ She had never heard of such a territory when she studied the geography of Terrielle.

Valcan noted the confused expression and quietly elaborated. "It's a territory in Kaeleer: The Shadow Realm." An amused expression crossed his features as he watched the girl's mouth drop.

Ares turned her head slowly to marvel at the man._ Kaeleer? But that is just a fantasy place. It's nothing more than a myth. _

The line moved again.

Suddenly Ares' expression turned from disbelief to a broad smile. "Really! Kaeleer?" she hushed her voice upon saying the name, as if saying it louder would make it lose it's majesty. "What's it like there?" she asked excitedly.

Valcan couldn't help but smile. Before he knew it, a small chuckle rolled from his chords. "It, from what I remember, was beautiful. It would snow in the winter and the hills rolled, and sparkled with the white dust." a smile rolled across his mouth as he looked down, envisioning the country side he once called home.

Ares marveled at Valcan's face. He had a wonderful smile. It was the kind of smile that made one laugh, because his joy could be read through it. And then when he laughed...

Ares' eyes opened wide for a moment when she heard that. He had a full laugh. It was the right combination of the menacing growl and the soothing baritone. She wished she could have heard him in a real laugh as opposed to a small chuckle. But it was a start.

Valcan paused a moment, a little shocked. He hadn't laughed in a very long time. And he hadn't smiled a true smile in just as long. How was it this girl could bring _that_ out of him, here at one of the most dismal places in the Realm of Terrielle?

Then he noticed Ares was kind of staring at him in awe and for the first time in a while, he felt sheepish. He said very quietly, "I haven't smiled like that in a long time."

* * *

Awwwwww. They're so cute together. He's got a He-man side to him and a teddy bear side.

I'm glad you people enjoy this rambling story. I'm making a conscious effort not to write parts of it that happen way off from where it pauses for every update. Because when I do that, I usually screw it up, facing a writer's block.

mmmmm. Oh yes.

My Legions, since you are all avid Black Jewels fans and I'm deciding to force my art on you, you can view fanart of Daemon and Lucivar at my Deviant account. If you go to my profile and click on the homepage link you'll be able to see them.

Only, Daemon's picture is misleading because I named it 'Hero of the day'.

Saetan's picture is coming too.

ay revoir!


	10. Almost Honest

-----Side Note---- for some reason, this site will not allow astrics, so when the Blood speak to eachother, mind to mind, there's gonna beparenthesis in their place. Thank you for your understanding.

* * *

The two passed the eternally long line for the Auction Block by talking to each other and discovering new things about the other. Ares found amazing comfort just to be in his presence. He was the one male she had met the entire time since she had been taken from her home that didn't want something physical from her. He was a strong and very intimidating man, but he didn't show that ferocity to her.

"How long has it been since you've seen your home?" Ares had asked. Valcan contemplated the question for a moment, and then guessed. "I suppose it's been about five years." He fiercely pushed an image out of his head upon that assumption. Ares' face dropped when she heard that and she bowed her head.

Valcan saw a hint of despair before she dropped her head. He turned inward again, dropped to the level of the sapphire, and placed out on a private thread, spear to distaff. (How long have you been a slave?)

Ares jumped a little upon hearing his voice in her head, but she turned her head farther away, so he couldn't see her face. (Why?) She asked with an unnaturally calm tone.

Valcan kind of leveled his stare on her, and continued. (Because your skin isn't scarred, you don't seem to have much maimed about you. You're very cheerful. he paused a moment. You don't have a shadow in your eyes or face.)

(I was taken from my home a little less than a week ago.) She said quietly, bitterly.

With that, Valcan's brow furrowed, and something inside him began to burn.

(I know enough that if I make a deal of it here, the High Priestess will try to have me finished so there wouldn't be a threat to her power anymore.) Then she turned, looking him straight in the eye, and continued. (I don't know what's happened to my family, or what will become of my Territory.)

Valcan began to see the hints of a red haze at the corners of his vision. He looked deep into her ocean eyes, and looked for any kind of answer.

He hadn't responded to a witch's distress like this in a long time. Something wasn't adding up. The power she was able to wield, Dorothea's threats, her territory...

As he looked deeper into her eyes, he saw a flicker deep within, before she turned her head down.

Suddenly it all fit together. _A Queen._ This girl was a Queen.

The realization made Valcan both surprised and yet angered him more. It certainly explained his reaction to her, and the distress. She was the next ruler of her territory, that obviously stood against Hayll's shadow. And with her power...

But she was only a sapphire witch. The High Priestess had the upper hand by one level of rank.

_Still. It wouldn't matter if her Territory was large enough to defend Dorothea._

But those facts didn't ease his temper. She was a Queen. She had so much power, so much life. And more importantly, she understood what she was fighting against. She was in danger. If he hadn't stepped in the night before...

The urge to protect screamed at him.

The line moved a few feet. They were closer to the Block now, maybe two more people to go.

Ares saw how close she was to being displayed and auctioned off like cattle. She felt a quiver of fear rise up from her gut. She shivered, and quickly looked away from the platform. _Oh Darkness, sweet Darkness, please. _

Suddenly she felt a large hand on her shoulder. When she looked up at him, Valcan lightly squeezed it, offering a small smile of comfort and courage.

(You're too strong a Queen to lose hope.)

Ares' eyes grew in shock. _How did he know?_ She worked very hard to keep that veiled. Her mother had taught her to shield what she was since she was very small. Was her power waning because of her separation from her jewel?

(How did you know?) She thought fiercely. Valcan was a little taken aback by her tone. Like she would pounce on him.

(I'm a Warlord Prince. My entire being responds to a Queen's power.)

(What about other Warlord Princes?) She asked, with the same fierceness, but with a hint of panic.

(I don't think so. I was only able to really figure it out by what you told me. I could feel your power, but it didn't seem to hold the darkness of a Queen.)

Ares sighed in relief. "Don't tell anyone." she mumbled. Valcan tipped his head to the side, but then dismissed his question. She had perfect reasons.

* * *

My Legions, I am in distress.

I have not gotten any review in three weeks, and I'm beginning to feel that the story is being ignored. (No, really?)

Why have you requested more chapters if you do not read? Has school started and there's no time, or is the story just sucking too badly? Why am I even asking these questions? Obviously, there is no one there to answer them.

Whatever.


	11. Voodoo

5

Two men came down the stairs leading to the platform, and grabbed Ares by the upper arm, and lead her forcefully back up.

Valcan wanted to rip their arms off.

Ares looked back at him, with fear blatantly in her eyes. Then she turned her head back around to face the bidding aristo Blood. _Mother Night._

A man came up towards her, nicely dressed, and said in a loud voice as he examined her, "We have an able witch, in good health, and mentally stable." He read this off of a parchment in his hand. "Shall we start the bidding at 80 gold marks?"

Ares tried to focus on the horizon, on some distant point that wasn't the crowd in front of her.

Somemen sneered at her, others looked at her with a look in their eye she didn't appreciate, while the women gave her searing, critical looks. Some of the spectators had been calling out numbers for which they would pay for her. Then she heard a voice that sent shivers down her spine.

"120!" Immediately her gaze fell down to the man who called out. She sucked her breath in.

Roselv.

_Mother Night.

* * *

_

Valcan looked up at the platform. He felt a strong stab of fear come from the girl. **(What's wrong, Ares?)**

**(It's him.)** She answered back, her tone on the verge of panic.

She met Roselv's gaze, and he smiled a wicked smile.

A woman bet against him. Another man called out a number. Then Roselv yelled, "180!"

Ares' heart began to beat faster. **(He's bidding on me!)**

**(Who?)** Valcan asked, his tone becoming dangerous. **(Roselv, the Warlord from last night.)** Ares suddenly felt a dangerous flicker from off the platform.

"200!" Roselv called with a menacing smile to the girl.

She was terrified.

Then another man called out, "240!" Roselv looked back towards the man, delivering a narrowed stare. The man didn't take notice.

Immediately, Roselv called a bid, "300!" The man in the back called one in response. "330!"

Ares didn't know whether to be thankful or to be afraid. Roselv narrowed his eyes as he called again, "360!" The man nonchalantly called "400!"

Valcan could openly feel Ares' emotions through the link they had. She was terrified. And her fear awakened his Warlord Prince's instincts. His temper flared, as he found himself riding the knife that was the Killing-Edge. He was building his power, waiting for it to be enough to finish the kill. He could identify who this male was. The Summer-Sky Jewel. It had specific scent to it that made him stand out from all the others. It would be ridiculously easy to knock him off.

Finally, Roselv called out a number, but one could tell it pained him to do so. "4...15!" Ares looked immediately to the other bidder, who smiled mockingly at the Warlord, and called, "450!" Ares looked back to the Warlord, who hunched his shoulders. She saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. He was beat.

Ares almost smiled, but then she felt the power off the platform.

**(Valcan!)** She called, just now feeling his building strength. **(Stop! He lost. He's not a threat to me anymore.)**

**(No.)** Valcan growled. And he let his grey strength lash out, zipping directly at the Warlord.

Roselv didn't even feel it coming. He didn't even realized his jewels had been drained. The only thing he knew was the sensation of a grey strength ripping through his barriers, and burning what was left of his being.

His carcass fell to the ground when the nicely-dressed announcer declared that the girl was sold.

* * *

My Legions, I am sorry for my last note. It was an uncalled for outburst. (that and i was in a bad mood)

But that doesn't make it alright.

Thank you, my Legionaires, for leaving me your wonderful reviews.

Tonight has been lovely because they have played Collective Soul, Live and Godsmack on the radio, which lead me to name this chapter 'Voodoo'.

Because that is a great 'Smack song.

And on a side note-

Gavin Rossdale is back!

he's in a new band, a side project, called Institute, and it's awesome! How I love that man!

pssssss. I am sorry this sub chapter is so short, but it's the end of the chapter.See you with chapter 3!


	12. Trapped Under Ice

Chapter 3

* * *

1

Ares was still a little shook-up from the Auction Block. It was terrifying having to stand before a whole crowd of people, waiting for one of them to become the controllers of her fate. But when Valcan unleashed his strength like that...

She shuddered. She never felt anyone like that. He was very strong. Physically, mentally, and by rank.

And he was a Warlord Prince. She never knew one before. The men in her territory were all Warlords. She never had to deal with the temperament of a Warlord Prince. She never knew how terrifying they could be.

At the same time, however, she was grateful that he was willing to protect her. He was a very powerful ally. She would be a fool to shrink away from him because he scared her.

She remembered when Roselv's body had fallen to the ground, lifeless and cold. The people around him backed away and the women gasped, but not much else happened that made his death seem so terrible.

The Announcer kept the auction moving, most-likely using Craft to move the Warlord's carcass from the crowd, and then settled the spectators with some calming words. Finally, Valcan was brought up to the platform, as Ares was led off, shaking. When she passed him, Valcan seemed to have a glimmer in his eyes. It was terrifying. He glanced at her once, but not again. She tried tocatch his attention, so he could open a psychic link,but he was shut off from the world.

Then Ares was led to a different cell than the one she had previously occupied. Shewas told to wash up and change her clothes as to be more presentable for her new masters.

She cringed when she saw the tub she was to bathe in. And then she shivered when she put her foot in the ice-cold water, but she did clean herself as well as possible. She took extra care of her cuts from the whip lashes and she cleaned her hair as best she could.

Ares re-dressed in the clothes provided for her and braided her wet hair, and then curled it around her head so it would stay in bun. She used Craft to keep it up. The clothes given to her were not anything remarkable: asimple skirt and shirt. She left her old attire in the room, seeing how it was torn and stained with her blood and sweat.

She thanked the Darkness before she exited the room that no one had found she was using her Craft. She would most-likely be punished for doing so. But, then again, that was why her mother trained her to hide what she was. So that she could get away with using what she had, and not be in danger because of it.

* * *

Hello, My Legions!

Iapologize for the abruptness of this chapter. It's kind of a filler, so that may explain why it's unreasonably short.

The next update will be better, with another character coming to the surface that we all know and love!

Please read and review!

And also... For those of you who use matches...(for whatever purpose you cater to...) don't use the cheap kind in the little cheap booklets, because they DON'T work. they break and their strike pads are shot.

Use the wooden kind!

perhaps to ignite this story, because it sucks. (no, i was kidding. it only KIND OF sucks.)

(well, aren't we being modest?)

Au Revoir!


	13. The Midnight Special

2

A guard came and escorted her from the cleaning room to another cell closer to the upper floors of the Slave Pens. Ares couldn't sleep just yet. The cold bath had _really_ woken her up. So she tried to contact Valcan again.

(Prince?) She asked tentatively. No answer. Why wasn't he responding? It had been hours since the episode on the Auction Block.

(Valcan?) she asked again, only putting more of an edge to her voice. Now that she knew what Jewel ranking to look for, she sought his Birthright- the Green. Ares had one level of power under Valcan's Birthright Jewel. So long as he could feel a sending on that one, she would be able to open the psychic link between the two.

She knew he was there, he just wasn't responding. (Hell's Fire, Valcan.)

"Don't you know if you get caught using your Craft, you'll get in serious shit?"

Ares snapped open her eyes when she heard_ that_ voice. She had never quite heard such a perfect harmonious, cultured voice. She looked up at the male, wide-eyed.

He was tall, slender, and dangerous. His skin was tanned, she could even tell that through the dim torch lights. His hair was a shining ebony, and he wore a black jacket with black trousers, and a white shirt, with the collar opened a little. He had very broad shoulders. When she gazed into his face, she couldn't believe what she saw.

He had the most beautiful face she had ever had the pleasure to behold. His gold eyes gleamed in the light, and a small smile formed on his face. He stood there with his hands in his trouser pockets, simply studying her.

She had never seen a man so... _beautiful._ She didn't really know how else to describe him.

She shook her head to clear it. "Hello." she said courteously. She stood, and came closer to the bars of the cell. "Why are you here?" she asked. It seemed so odd for someone who must be an aristo male to come and be among the slaves. He had a different feeling to him, however. Like what Valcan had. She puzzled on this a moment, and then looked into this stranger's eyes.

Warlord Prince.

Her mouth fell open a little at that realization. Only he was much, _much _darker than Valcan. She could definitely tell that much.

The stranger's smile deepened, as if he could tell what she had realized.

He answered her question. "I was wandering these corridors, and I heard you trying to contact someone on a psychic thread." Ares gasped. She really didn't think anyone else would be able to pick up on it.

Then she frowned at the man. "Why were you wandering these parts? Shouldn't you be in comfort at one of the hotels? Surely someone with your rank would be entitled to such."

He raised a finely shapedeyebrow. "What is your name?" he asked, rather suddenly, dismissing her question.

Ares tilted her head to the side, but decided it probably didn't matter if he knew it or not. "Arelane." She answered in a light tone. "May I know yours, Prince?"

The man rose his eyebrow again. "I'm known as Daemon, my dear Lady." Ares blushed. She wasn't used to such courtesy intertwined withsuch a smooth, seductive voice.

Ares decided this man was to help, and not to hurt, so she made her mind up. "Prince Daemon?" she asked tentatively. "Will you do me a favor?" Daemon's expression turned to a distant one. "Will you give this to a friend?" she asked after a moment. His expression lifted to one of intrigue as one of his finely-shaped eyebrows followed suit.

She called in a small box, using Craft, and pulled out a simple silver ring, with a fragment of her Sapphire jewel embedded into it. She held it out to the Prince and said, "I'm not sure where he is right now, but I would very much appreciate it if you could deliver this for me."

The man looked at the ring, and then raised his eyes to her. "You trust me that much?" he inquired.

Ares looked up at him pleadingly. "I am to be taken to my new master tomorrow, and I don't think I'll be able to see my friend again."

Daemon let out a breath. "Who is this friend?"

"He's a slave named Valcan. He has wavy blond hair and blue eyes. He wears the Grey jewel. If you were at the auction this morning, he was the man who came after me on the platform." She paused, as if thinking, and then added softly, "He saved my life, and I'd like to have a connection with him."

Daemon marveled at the trust this girl had. She was foolish to be so trusting. None the less, Daemon took the ring, and vanished it. "I'll be sure to give it to him." he said reassuringly in his seductive voice.

He almost smiled when he saw how greatful the girl was. "Thank you, Prince. May the Darkness embrace you."She said as she held out her cuffed hand. Daemon glanced at her hand, and then her face before he took his hand out of a pocket and placed it on top of hers, palm down.

"May the Darkness embrace you, my Lady." He said with a warm gleam in his eye. And then, with that, he took his hand away, and continued walking down the corridor.

* * *

Itold you there would be a surprise. Did I keep him in character?

I love Daemon, but Lucivar is my favortie. ThoughI don't think I'll be able to write him in. (sniff)

Yes so, I would really appreciate some reviews. 12 reviews for some odd chapters is kind of a poor response.

Thank you for your time, My Legions!


	14. Voice Of the Voiceless

* * *

As Daemon walked down the corridor, he smiled. _What a witch._ Even he could tell she would be very powerful. _And she is educated_. When she had held out her hand in the formal greeting, he knew she had once come from a Court. What was more, was what he felt between their hands. There was something there- a pressure of power he could almost identify, but it felt muted. And when he glanced at her face, he saw in her eyes that she was hiding something purposefully. It was almost mischievous, but not in a threatening way. Like she wanted him to figure something out.

Whatever it was, he just hoped she had been bought by a good master. Or if not, she would meet someone who could protect her. It seemed that she already had, as he looked down at the ring. He could tell it was a part of her jewel.

Of course he remembered that girl. She was the witch that had one of her bidders die on the spot. And Daemon remembered whom had delivered the fatal blow. Another Warlord Prince, with Grey strength. It seemed she had already met a powerful ally.

He descended the stairs, leading deeper into the pit of slave pens; leading deeper into the area where the more dangerous males were kept. He had managed to track down a Grey- Jeweled Warlord Prince. There weren't many.

As Daemon rounded the corner to continue down the corridor, he wrapped a sight and psychic shield around him, so no one could detect his presence.

Finally, he came upon a cell that had angry grey energy emanating from within. He looked into the cell, and saw the man. Well, boy rather. He wasn't more than 19. He was sprawled on the floor, breathing heavily.

Daemon knew that result far too well. The Warlord had obviously been whipped for something. Probably for the episode in the morning. His master probably knew what happened, and once he was sold, took the liberty of the last few hours they owned him to punish him.

Daemon passed through the bars of the cell as if they didn't even exist. The man had no idea he was there.

Not with the power of his Black Jewels. No one could detect him.

* * *

"Rough day, Prince?" Daemon asked, dropping the sight shield, but setting up another around the cell so that no one could over hear.

The blond Warlord Prince sat up quickly, and winced. Upon meeting the stranger's gaze he snarled and delivered a glare. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he asked viciously. Daemon smirked in answer.

"Don't shoot the messenger, Lad." Daemon smoothly warned. The Prince drew his lips back, baring his teeth.

An amused look crossed Daemon's face. "Valcan, correct?" he asked.

Valcan's eyes narrowed. _How does he know my name?_ He was in no mood for this. He had just received a lashing he would most-likely remember for quite a while. He wasn't able to stand up for this. "Don't worry, Lad. I'm not here to pick a fight." Valcan's face turned to skepticism.

"Why are you here then?"

The man's gold eyes glittered as he studied him for a minute. "I have a gift for you." And with that, he flicked his wrist and made a silver ring appear in his tanned palm. Valcan's attention was immediately captured by the object.

"A young witch on the upper floors asked me to deliver this to you." He said as he squatted down to Valcan's level.

Valcan was grateful. He didn't think his legs had the strength to stand. He looked at the man's face again, and then looked pointedly at the ring he offered. A sapphire shard embedded in the silver caught his attention. "Ares gave that to you?" he breathed.

The man cocked his head a little, studying Valcan's face. "Arelane? Yes. She was afraid she wouldn't see you before she was taken away, and she wanted to give this to you."

Valcan looked at the man and then back at the ring. He went to take it, but the man closed his fist. Valcan frowned.

"Promise me, Prince," Daemon said as his stare bore into the younger man. His tone was grim and quiet. "That you will keep that witch safe with all the ability you possess as a Warlord Prince. She has amazing power, and she will do a great many things, but it's not worth a damn if she is broken before she can obtain it."

Valcan looked up into the man's eyes, and saw a fierce determination in the gold. "I swear it." He answered, never wavering from the gold stare. The light changed in the man's eyes, and he opened his fist to hold out the ring. Valcan slowly took the ring, and brushed a finger over the sapphire.

"May the Darkness embrace you, Prince." The black haired man said as he got up and walked out of the cell, passing through the bars as if they were nothing.

* * *

Yes, so, The Bye-bye of daemon's part in the story so far. I don't know if he'll come back.

But we'll all miss him. (waves goodbye & blows a kiss)

Thank you to the_ two_ to _three_ people who reviewed most recently.

You have kept my spirits just high enough.

Like Prophet Wolfstar, for example.

So yes! I'll update later... maybe within the week. I have been working on the story, suffering from severe inspiration, but these parts I've been working on don't really occur until quite a ways later. At least I'm not on the spot for new material or anything yet.

So, my legionaires, I wish your adiue, and sweet dreams!


	15. All Apologies

3

Valcan sat on the floor staring at where the mysterious man had exited for a long time.

That Warlord Prince had great strength. He almost couldn't feel an end to it. He was a very dark, and dangerous man. But his empathy for the slaves was certainly something he didn't expect.

He looked back down at the ring lightly resting in his palm. Then he shook his head. Ares was foolish to be so trusting with a stranger. Then again, she was very trusting with himself.

He smiled at the silver circle, and brushed a finger over the gem. Valcan could feel the power hum through it when it met his Gray strength. A light shone in it, danced for a second, and then disappeared.

He truly did not think that the girl would want anything to do with him after he lost reason on the Killing Edge. He felt a Queen being threatened and he responded as his instincts commanded. And it was natural for a Warlord Prince, or any male for that matter to want to actually bond with a witch. A good, strong Queen was his calling.

And he had never wanted to have a bond with a witch quite so strongly. That was what persuaded him to give the girl the information he had, and to protect her.

Valcan sighed, and fit the ring over his large pinky finger. A faint smile crossed his lips before he went silent and still to descend to the depths of his Jewel.

Ares? he asked quietly. He felt bad for not answering her calls earlier that day.

After he was displayed on the Auction block, his former owner, Lady Talia had felt his energy blast through the Ring of Obedience she wore. And then when the Warlord had fallen dead she didn't need to look into his face to see the glazed-over look in his eyes, or the irritated, distant expression through his hair.

Talia had punished him, much as he had been punished the night before, but it was worse this night.

"100 lashings payable for a bastard Warlord's death." She had said before she sent a bolt of pain through the Ring on her right hand. She had kept the pain through the Ring constant, always present, enough to remind him why he hated this woman. With every whip stroke, the power being channeled through the Ring to his organ would flare. He would open his mouth in a wordless cry, refusing to actually make a noise. He didn't need to add to the sadistic bitch's pleasure anymore than he was.

Valcan's body ached, the lash wound's stings still very vivid. His muscles had cramped and he was shaking from cold and sweat. But worst of all, his groin was the most sensitive. It hurt even to wear pants.

Valcan snapped back to the present, and concentrated again on his spear thread to distaff. **(Arelane?)**

**(Hm?)** Came a tired sounding witch's voice. He must have woken her up. **(Valcan?)** Her voice suddenly was more awake, perky. He laughed a little. **(Yes, witch, it's me.)**

**(Did Prince Daemon bring my gift?)** She asked with barely contained apprehension. Valcan thought for a moment. _Daemon. Daemon_... where had he heard that name before?

**(Valcan? Did he bring it?)**

**(The dark-haired Warlord Prince?)** He asked, still puzzling this character.

**(Yes!)** Ares thought excitedly. **(So he did. Do you like it? I don't have much else to offer.)**

A Warlord Prince... very dark-powered... Daemon.

Valcan's eyes shot open and he swore colorfully and viciously. Ares could feel his fright and hear his swearing, and had pulled back a little. **(What's the matter?)** She asked giving her voice edge.

Daemon. _Prince Daemon Sadi_. The Sadist. Who hasn't heard of the Sadist? He was renowned for being brutal to the Queens he served, and, along with his brother Lucivar Yaslana, were infamous for destroying whole Courts.

What was he doing here? Probably serving a bidding Queen.

However, as renowned as Daemon was for being a cruel, sadistic Bastard to those he served, he was rumored to be gentle and caring towards the slaves of said Court.

And to accept a task from a lighter-jeweled, enslaved Queen. Well, that proved his soft-spot for slaves.

Then it settled on him that he had met the man.

He wasn't just some superstitious creature; a story among the Blood, but a real Warlord Prince. A very dark- jeweled Warlord Prince. Suddenly Valcan felt kind of light-headed, and short of breath. _He had met the man_. Had spoken with him, even was rude. However, had he known that before hand, would he have acted differently?

No. Who was he trying to kid? A Warlord Prince would not let himself be seen as weaker to another male. Even if the other was obscenely more powerful than he.

**(Valcan?)** He pushed back again to what was happening now, and stopped thinking.

**(Sorry, Witch. I was lost in my thoughts.)** He lay down on the ground, and groaned when he pulled a lash wound.

**(What's wrong?)** Ares asked, concerned.

**(Nothing. I pulled a lash mark.)** He heard the girl gasp in sympathy for him. **(Why? Was it because of me?)** She asked the last part timidly.

**(No. My owner wanted one last whipping before I was handed over.)** He lied. Then Valcan paused for a moment, thinking about his new owners. **(Do you know who you were sold to?)**

He could feel dismay in what Ares said next. **(No. Well, I don't knowthebidder'sname, but I found I was sold to a Territory outside of Hayll.)**

Valcan responded to the name with a flash of vicious anger. **(Where are you being sent?)** Ares asked. **(Someplace near Askavi.)** Valcan could feel Ares' unhappiness about their separation through the link. **(Don't worry.)** He encouraged, adding a bit of a growl to his strained voice. **(You'll meet other slaves there who can help you...)**

_Who can protect you_... That last thought didn't settle well with Valcan and he refrained form saying it, because he knew it would become a vicious snarl out loud. Ares didn't need that kind of a startle now.

The aspect of _someone else_ bonding with his Queen...

When did she become _his_ Queen? It must have been the possessiveness of the Warlord Prince inside him influencing his mind.

**(Besides,)** Valcan continued, pushing the thought away a little,** (We'll be able to keep contact. And now that I have your gift, I can track your jewel very easily.)**

He could almost feel Ares' smile.

She sighed, and then in a tired voice said, **(Good night, my Prince Valcan. May the Darkness embrace you.)** And she added a strike of her dark sapphire energy with the last word, to brush against his Gray Jewels.

**(Pleasant dreams, my Witch.)** He returned, softly, knowing she had already fallen asleep. He savored the feel of her power brushing his, and rubbed his thumb over the ring on his big pinky finger. He didn't fall asleep until some time afterward.

* * *

Yes, I know I've been a bit late. I'm sorry. _I know you're all so eager to know what happens._

There are spanish children at school. There are like 7 boys and one girl, and there's one named Pablo. He has THE nicest hair and he's the best -looking out of all of them. (sigh)

But yes, it's all very exciting!

just like this story!

See? If I make myself enthusiastic about it, everything turns out half full!


	16. Truth

Chapter 4

1

The next morning, the guards came to Ares' Cell before she had awoken. She was so tired. She was roughly brought to consciousness and then led out of the stinking cell to the Coach that contained her new Master and the slaves he had bought.

She tried very hard not to pull her lips back in disgust at the amount of slaves he had bought, and just _herded_ into this small space. 5 women, not including herself, and 9 men. Either he was cheap, or had run short on Marks because this coach was smaller than the one she had been taken to the Auctions in.

Soon after the door was closed, the Coach picked up and was brought to ride the Winds.

* * *

2

After what seemed like a lifetime and a half, the Coach finally dropped from the Winds, and landed on the Landing Web outside of a great Gate. Two guards roughly pulled open the doors of the coach and began to pull the people out hastily.

A dark-haired man appeared on the other side of the Coach, and rounded the corner to come and inspect his new objects.

Ares saw the man's Green Jewel swing out from his jacket. A grin spread on his lips and he eyed the women, and looked at the men. Then she felt a psychic brush go out to the large mansion a few yards away.

"Come, now, my good people," the man said in a mocking tone through his wide grin. "It is time for you to meet your new Queen." And with that he pivoted with the air of a man who had done well, and led the march to the courtyard.

Ares looked around at the land. It looked beautiful, the trees looked green, and the grass was well taken care of. The mansion appeared well kept. But there was an underlying sorrow she felt. Almost as if the land was crying, suffering. It called to her, and she felt terrible fo not being able to do anything to help it. To give something back.

_Maybe in a few days. Once she had figured out her new surroundings, she would preform the reaping to the land._

Finally, the group reached the open Courtyard in front of the large Mansion, and waiting for them was a very elegantly-dressed woman. She wasn't much to look at. She had a certain expression in her face that told anyone around her that they were lesser than she. Or at least, that's what _she_ thought.

The dark-haired man spoke loudly and proudly to her. "My Lady, I have bought you 15 of best slaves they had to offer." He inspected his Lady's expression before he continued. He sounded like he was trying to sell cattle, convincing the woman that it was a great deal and that he'd done well. "They can be used for whatever service you require." He bowed with his huge smile, and stepped back enough so that the Lady could determine if these people were, indeed, worth the marks she had given this man.

She raised an eyebrow, tapping her Opal jewel that hung high on her chest, and gave a small grin, saying in a regular tone, "These will suit my purposes." she scanned over the gloomy faces once more. "Bring the women to their quarters, and take the men to the fields." And then she turned, haughtily, and walked back, with the dark-haired man following, towards the large front doors of the mansion.

Like cattle, the two gender groups were separated, and herded in opposite directions. Ares heard a woman begin to cry and she turned just in time to see her look longingly back towards a man who had the same dismal expression. _They must have been together._ Ares concluded, and then she thought of Valcan. She wondered how he was. She didn't dare try to contact him now. She didn't know how far her limits stretched here, at this new imprisonment.

She sighed, and continued walking with the rest of the women. She did wish Valcan was here though. She missed him already. He had saved her life, potentially twice, and she felt so comfortable being around such a male. She missed his growling voice, and the sparkle he had in his Sky-blue eyes. Even though she had known him for less than two days, she felt connected with him, and immediately she knew he would be her protector and ally.

Maybe she'd meet him again, in person.

* * *

3

The female slave quarters were starved stink holes at best. The women there looked like they had given up on life and freedom long ago. Something about this particular slave holder, however, told Ares that she wasn't even close to the true terrors of slavery. There would be worse days and worse owners to come.

However, there was a beginning to everything, and this was the start of a new 'life' for the young heir to the Akryln Throne.

When the small group was shoved into the first hovel, Ares tried with all her might not to pull her lips back in disgust. It smelled terrible, and the people inside didn't look well at all.

It wasn't soon until the Task Master barked his orders, and commanded Ares to work in the fields. So off she trudged with two other females, with their hoes and scythes, into the fields for cropping. Ares went into the long grass off the side of one of the large crop fields. There, she began to cut down the tall stalks of grain, and collect them into a bundle in her back.

She must have been working at least an hour and a half under the blazing sun, and had only collected a fist full of grain. She wasn't very good at this, seeing as how she had never done it before. Finally, she figured she had worked enough and blended in enough with the scene that she shouldn't be noticed by any of the over-seers. So she tried contacting Valcan for the first time.

She pushed a flicker of power out on the sapphire web, knowing it would catch the shard on the ring she had given Valcan. Ares continued working to keep from drawing attention to herself, but she wasn't as focused on what was happening in her surroundings. He wasn't replying. Was he asleep? Or maybe it was a bad time. Well, she could try later too. As she smiled to herself, pleased for trying, the grass next to her snapped and a shadow fell over her's.

Ares looked up startled, swinging the scythe. The man took a graceful step backward, as if anticipating the tool's path. He then smiled at the girl and wrapped his fingers around the handle, gently pulling it out of her hands. Ares was shocked, and began to feel that prick of fear.

The man put his other hand around the longer part of the handle, and positioned it downward. Then he spoke. "You're not working this correctly." Ares thought she was going to melt. Although his voice wasn't half as seductive and husky as Prince Daemon's, it had an accent, and had a deep, dark undertone in it. The combination resulted in a melodious tune that made Ares' face want to flush. She merely gaped at him and a sly smile spread across his face. "You have to swing it this way, to cut low at the base of the stalks." This action he did, flawlessly. "And once you've cut it down, gather as much as you can in your hand and place it in your basket." With that he took a step toward Ares, and leaned to drop his handful in her basket.

Ares couldn't speak for several moments. The color had drained out of her face and she couldn't quite convince her body to move.

He was a complete opposite to Valcan. This man was average height, he didn't have very broad shoulders, and had midnight-colored hair, that was pulled back, so it looked as if it was short-cropped, but there were long strands that had fallen into his face. He had honey-gold eyes, encircled by very dark lashes and the tannest skin Ares had ever lied eyes on. His face was long, but had strong features. His expression was one that told anyone who looked at him that he knew what he was doing, talking about, and that he shouldn't be questioned.

Finally, after a few more moments of struggling to compose herself, Ares snapped out of his trance and achieved one of the biggest feats: closing her gaping mouth.

She worked over what she was to say a few times in her head before finally summoning the courage to make a noise. Hell's Fire. It hadn't been that difficult to talk to Valcan, and he was way more intimidating than this male.

However, before Ares could make a note, the man spoke first.

"You're not used to labor are you?" he asked with a hushed tone, and a pleasant touch. Ares shook her head and swallowed before saying, "No. I wasn't a slave before two weeks ago." She felt the color drain from her face. Was that too much information?

He gave a small, frail smile. "Well, Lady, may I know your name?" Ares' eyes widened. He was much more forward than Valcan. More talkative too.

"Arelane," she breathed, "but I prefer to be called Ares." she offered a weak smile. She could feel her stomach churning with nervousness. She wished frantically that it would stop. "And what is your's," she hesitated for a moment, studying him. She had felt this before. It was that certain scent, a certain power that separated males from other males.

Warlord Prince.

She could recognize it now. It was a dark scent in males, it gave off a dangerous warning, but also called out the will to protect at the same time.

"Prince." she finished politely. He flashed a grin Ares wasn't sure if she liked or not. "Lady Ares." he said with a sigh. "You cannot know my title until you have earned my respect." he studied her for a moment. His gold eyes running up an down her body. Ares thanked the Darkness that she didn't flinch or grimace. She hated being judged.

However, to her complete surprise, he held his hand out, and Ares noticed his arms. They were covered in designs and colors. One of which was a serpent, and another a wolf. She took a step closer to his arm out of curiosity. And once she was nearer, she marveled at the artistry. "These markings are beautiful." she breathed. Without thinking, or asking, she lightly traced the wolf on his forearm with her finger.

Then she felt the man's golden stare bearing into her, and she realized what she was doing.

Shit.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Prince." she apologized, taking a step back wards out of nervous reflex. She never looked up at his face, however, seeing his arm still out-stretched, she placed her hand in his offered one, and firmly shook it. When she looked up at his face, it was expressionless. A mask.

Ares frowned. Had she upset him by touching him? She finally met him in the eye, and he seemed to have snapped out of his cold state. The grip on her hand strengthened, and began moving them up and down.

"Well, Lady, I hope to see you around. We could use each other's company." And with that, he offered a small arrogant smile, and turned back the way he must have come.

* * *

Holy Moses, it was long!

And i have no heart to edit right now because of a fellow reviewer and i are talking, so if ther are mistakes, you know why.

And thank you to my most recent reviewers!

I'm sorry i haven't updated

College crap.

Thank you to:

Xynthe Saizer! I know i screw up words with EA. But thank you for being aware and actually paying attention!

Silver gryphonem, Kristen and Prophet Wolfstar (whom is the culprit of no editing)

thank you! now I can stop bitching about my reviews, or lack there of!

Cross your finger for me! I aspire to go to NYU!


	17. Violet

Ares stood there, for a few moments, completely flabbergasted. She had no idea what to make of this Prince. Really. Who _does_ that? Just walk up to some stranger, and say that they need to earn respect?

She felt like screaming out of frustration. However, she refrained from doing so as to avoid being noticed by a guard.

"Hell's Fire." she grumbled to herself as she went back to chopping down the grain like the man had shown her.

The prick.

* * *

The next few days Ares was assigned to house duties. She was to clean, and wash, and tend to every whim of anyone of importance in that shack. However, she'd found that she preferedto do the menial labor as opposed to the hard field work. Now she understood part of what Valcan meant when he said "_Menial chores."_

Late one night, as she was finishing delivering a guest's dinner, a door opened some ways down the hall and out walked the nervy man who approached her the other day. He looked tired and unhappy, even though he wore his neutral mask. It could be read in his movements.

He stepped into the doorway, fixed his collar, pulled his hair out from inside his shirt, and shut the door. Then he looked down the hall and then up it, towards where Ares was walking.

Ares didn't avert her gaze, nor did she smile. She kept a steady, almost challenging stare, as he looked at her face. As she passed him she greeted, "Prince" civilly, and nodded her head once. He, in turn, nodded as well and turned to walk the way she was going.

"Lady." he said as he came up to her side. "Are you down to House chores now?" his tone was polite, but Ares felt like he was mocking her. She kept her head forward and narrowed her eyes once without saying anything.

The man studied her profile for a moment. He smiled slightly, amused by her resolve to ignore him.

"Suffering from insomnia, Prince?" she asked, rather abruptly. Her tone was biting, even though she said the words in a light voice. The man tilted his head, looking at her still. "Excuse me?" he was genuinely puzzled. Then he felt a stab of energy flicker next to him.

"Why are you up at this hour?" Ares clarified, unhappily.

"I was finishing what was required of me." he said softly, but it was a challenging phrasing. Ares frowned on the inside, wondering why she heard sorrow through the tone as well.

None the less, she kept her pace. She was tired and wanted to sleep. Anything to make her forget about not eating for the second day.

"Lady Arelane, correct?" the man inquired after a long moment of silence.

"Yes?" she answered almost as if her patience was running thin. Honestly, why was she so snappish? Was it her lack of food, or the fact that he probably could have introduced his presence better that first day? What irked her so bad about him?

Before he could say anything more, she stopped moving and turned to face him. "Is being a Warlord Prince what makes you men not want to answer, or is it just because you're all jack-assess?"

The look on his face was priceless. He was completely taken aback by her insult and her forwardness. There weren't many in this Court below the Queens that taunted him to this measure.

Then that sly grin settled over his face.

"Why are you so angry, Lady?"

Ares' lips pursed and her face squished up. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"What is your deal?" she asked through a hushed voice, because if it were any higher, she would have yelled it. He rose an eyebrow.

"You come up to me, in the middle of a field, and tell me _I need to earn your respect_. Whatever the hell that means. Now you're following me. And on top of it, the one friend I make though this whole ordeal, I can't contact. There? Do you see now? That is why I'm pissed off. Because you are a jackass, and I haven't been fed in two days." she took in another breath and held it for a moment while she calmed her nerves.

_Shit. Mood swings. That isn't good._ She though to herself. That could only mean one thing.

The black-haired man kept his eyebrow raised. Ares didn't think he knew what to make of what she had just spewed at him. The sly grin returned and he looked her right in the eye. "Lady." he said quietly. Ares' ocean eyes snapped up to his. The expression on his face turned from sly and conniving to warm and apologetic as he bent down to one knee and took both of her shaking hands. "There." he said with a small chuckle. "You have earned my respect, Lady Arelane. I am sorry for upsetting you in a time of distress." he kissed her hand before he rose, and looked into her eyes again. With a graceful, fluid movement he rose from his kneeling position, turned, and continued walking down the hall, his perfection marred slightly by fatigue.

Once again, the young girl was left in frustrated awe by this man. And she was hungry.

* * *

The man left the witch Arelane standing in the hall. He walked down the corridor, past a few more doors before turning a corner and grabbing the door knob of the first door on the left. He opened it, and flung himself in, barely remembering in time to _not_ slam the door. He ran for the couch on the opposite side of the room and vaulted into it. He needed to lay his head back. This was too much for him.

That girl.

She was something special indeed. He felt it the first day he spoke with her. It was very faint, and that was why he approached in the first place. But once she touched his arm, he felt it. He felt what _seemed_ faint. She must have accidentally dropped her guard. Maybe the fatigue added to that.

Whatever it was, it was immense. Her power had washed through him with her touch. First it was like an ice hand had clamped around his wrist and then surged though his veins, singing to his blood. The Darkness in it...

He was shocked.

However, when she shook his hand, he didn't feel the power. In fact, what he did feel was very faint, almost imperceptible.

He pulled his head from the back of the couch and braced it between his hands on his knees.

It had puzzled him too greatly. He couldn't have just given her his name like she so foolishly did. The other thing that stopped him from acquainting her was when she hesitated before calling him 'Prince'. He didn't need a girl who would be afraid of what he was.

But after she lost her temper, he saw she wasn't afraid of him, she was just terribly shy. He had forgotten how stressful the first weeks or even years of slavery could be on someone. Especially someone her age.

Oh, what a fool he was to provoke her like that.

The man got up from the couch and began to unbutton the collar of his shirt. He slipped his boots off, and threw his white shirt on the floor by the couch. He proceeded to walk to his private bathroom, undid his navy colored trousers and threw them across the room too. The sound of running water ensued and finally, he stepped into the shower to wash off the unpleasant stench of sweat from the day, and the psychic scent of the witch he had just served.

As he carefully combed his raven's wings hair and dried himself, he decided there and then that tomorrow he would make amends with the young witch. There was something wrong, and she needed all the help and guidance she could get.

* * *

4

The next morning, The Prince found Ares in the kitchen, scrubbing the floor by the pantry. He walked over to her with his usual aloof grace, smiling casually at the other servants and cooks.

"Good morning, Lady." He said in a smooth voice. Ares' hand stopped for a brief moment, but then resumed to scrubbing the floor.

A little hurt by her ignoring him, he cleared his throat and said softer, "Lady." With no answer still, he moved to her side and squatted in his nicely tailored navy pants near the puddle of soap.

"Lady Ares, please accept my apology for my behavior the other day. I admit it was not the best way to make an impression on someone." He waited for her to look at him.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, she turned her head to look at him.

Ares saw his face, saw his golden eyes, and suddenly, she just couldn't find it in herself to be upset with him any longer. His face just looked so _hopeful_, so like a boy who just wanted to be friends, that she just couldn't find any words.

_What could it hurt?_ She thought to herself. She did need a friend here. The Darkness only knew how long she would be a slave here and she had no one to talk to. They could help each other, and his strength as a Warlord Prince could prove helpful as well.

With that, she let out a tight breath, and managed a shy smile. She sat back onto her ankles and looked him in the eye. She knew he was sorry for what he had done and he wanted to make amends. So she wiped one soapy hand on her dress and held it out to him.

"Prince, I accept your apology. I am sorry for the way I acted as well." He looked at her hand for a moment, a spark of shock in his eyes, but then he placed his in hers, and grasped it.

What a relief it was to feel that cold energy.

Knowing they were out of sight of the other staff in the room, the Prince leaned forward, still grasping her hand, and whispered into her ear, "And my name, Lady, is Malakaie."

Then he leaned back, gently lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles. When he managed to flicker a gaze at her expression he was slightly amused by the small glow in her cheeks. However, the calculating look she gave him made his smile falter. He panicked for a brief moment.

"Prince Malakaie." she said in a low voice, testing it. She looked up, finally, and stared into his gold eyes. He felt as if that oceanic stare was seeing far past the muscle. Down into the Abyss, seeing his naked Self for what he truly was.

Then she blinked and took a deep breath before finally smiling at him, as her stare became less intense. "I hope we can make the best out of this relationship." she said gently.

But Malakaie heard something deeper in her tone.

* * *

Yes!

I LIVE! The NYU application was sent in last week andI have been recovering from the stress and fatigue since.

By the way, it was 'The Fatigues' episode of Seinfeld tongiht. "I sent 16 of my own men to the latrines that night!"

Yes, so what happened? Yes.

We meet Malakaie, her Hayllian Warlord Prince counterpart. Snap!

Now all we need is some Creedence to celebrate!

I'm sorry I've been a bad updater. I shall make it up to you with words.

another time.


	18. Selling the Drama

Chapter 5

1

Korin, the New King of Akrlyn walked leisurely down the aisle of the Front Hall towards the throne. Today was a day that these pissants would never forget. He would secure this land to his own liking. He would have subjects, doting servants, and all the women he would ever want. He had control of every one of their lives. And if anyone ever asked of or mentioned the previous ruling family in his presence, he would personally see to the execution.

His white hair was combed back into a neat look, making him seem more powerful and younger. A malevolent grin began to spread across his face, but he pushed back on it, so he wouldn't seem like he was enjoying all of this too much. He needed to seem very strict and solid. These people would learn to fear him if they didn't already.

He approached the small steps that inclined to the Throne chairs, and before stepping onto the first stair, turned slowly, raising his left hand. He swept a glance over all of the people's troubled faces as they stood in the hall. He would change that soon.

Finally, something worth his time and abilities. To think, if he hadn't met that witch in Kaeleer... If she hadn't convinced him to pursue such an ambition... well, now he was indebted to the witch who called herself the High Priestess of Hell for a long, long time.

2

"Bring the boy." Korin commanded in a bored tone. It had been a week now, since his inauguration as the King of Akrlyn, and that damn boy still caused trouble. One would think that after daily beatings and imprisonment he would have quieted down. These Fiorins were aggravating people, that was for damn sure. Stubborn too.

If the report from Lord Darius last time one was sent was true, the Daughter wasn't any different. Three attempted escapes and two attempts to contact for help. And in the most recent report, Darius wrote that the Warlord he had assigned to the kidnaping, Lord Roselv, died in the auction crowd the day the little Bitch was sold.

Korin smiled at this. The bastard most likely deserved what came to him. The man, although shrewd, was an idiotic ass. He should have just had the idiot strip the girl of her Jewels from the first night, but he wanted the full income for her. A complete witch was worth more on the Auction Block than a broken one.

I wonder if she killed him or if he just simply died. Korin thought amused at the prospects. He knew the girl was a sapphire witch. Almost an exact copy of her mother.

3

Nightfall neared as the servants outside began to meander towards their quarters. Ares was among them, her movements usually smooth, were marred by fatigue and sore muscles. At least she wouldn't be up until all hours waiting on those disgusting aristo guests.

In the Court in Akryln, her mother's court, there were never such appalling displays of power and attitude. All of the subjects were courteous and pleasant. There was never anything to fear from them and everything felt comfortable.

But not here.

This close to Hayll, the people and powers were all maggots festering in the decaying land. As a Queen she could feel the earth around her scream for help. She felt the trees weep and the animals become more fearful everyday that passed. Her own instincts shrieked for her to do something, to preform the ceremony for giving back to the land, but she couldn't. She couldn't, and it was killing her.

Ares entered her stink hole and glanced at the other occupants. Three other women were huddled in the room. All of their faces dirty and smudged; all twisted with some kind of emotion that had broken their spirits or worse. After a week of living with them, Ares had come to learn that one, a witch named Hera was from Hayll. She was a lighter-jeweled witch, who was bought the same day Ares was at the Slave Auctions in Raej.

The other girl was named Heida. She was a broken witch, who stood just on the edge of sanity and the Twisted Kingdom. She used to be a Black Widow, with a green Jewel, but she had been broken by a male a few years ago.

The Third woman was the oldest, with grey hair that was almost white. The color wasn't completely caused by old age either. Her name was Cae, and she told the most fascinating stories Ares had ever heard. If the woman was still awake, Ares would listen to the tales the woman told of her life in Kaeleer and books she had read when she was a girl. She had come from Little Terrielle, which was in the Realm of Kaeleer.

Kaeleer. Ares would always think of Valcan whenever the Shadow Realm came up. It was no longer some kind of spooky myth to her. She realized it was there and was safer to be in, as she heard from Cae. She would like to see Glacia most of all.

She missed Valcan fiercely. She had sent out a touch on the Sapphire thread almost every night she had been in this court, and still, there was no answer. She hoped he was well. He was her protector, whether he liked it or not. He had saved her from certain peril and earned her trust. And that meant that he was to be part of her life for years to come. She would be damned if he backed off from this. She'd personally kick his ass.

With that thought in mind, once she settled on her cushion, if one could call it even that, she turned her back to the other women in the room and closed her eyes; focusing inward. She listened for the other slaves. She listened for the Aristo Blood in the House. They were all preoccupied by some other thing, which meant she would have an easier time being ignored. Finally, she descended to the Sapphire web.

She hadn't been able to descend to her web for a few days and nights. It was always too risky. She had seen what had happened to a male servant when he tried to contact his Jeweled strength. He had been brutally beaten, and then whipped between the whipping posts for everyone to see. The servants grimaced and looked away, but the Lady of the House watched with child-like delight as the man's screams echoed around the Courtyard.

That had been enough to convince Ares that what Prince Daemon had said to her was true.

But tonight, Ares took the chance, and descended to her Jewel rank. She reveled in the feeling. Ares settled and focused. _Sapphire_. She thought. _Where are you? Ah. _

Across the Realm, she felt the familiar sapphire shard on the ring she had given the Warlord Prince. And accompanied by it was an angry male signature. Ares smiled with relief and joy.

"Valcan" she whispered.

There. Right there. She felt it. A brief flicker, signifying that he felt something through the ring.

A few nervous moments passed before Valcan finally responded.

(Ares?) his voice was husky and seemed strained. But she could hear the hope in his voice.

(Oh, Valcan,) she thought joyfully. (it's been a while. It's so good to hear you.)

(How have you fared?) she could hear the worry in his voice.

(Well. I have had field work and house duty. Nothing really bad. And I think I made a new acquaintance. He's a lot different from you though.) Immediately, at the mention of another male, Ares felt stiff, barely suppressed anger roll off of Valcan's thread.

(Valcan?)

(Yes?) his tone wasn't very happy.

(What's wrong?)

(Nothing.) Ares frowned at that. Why did he remind her of a sulking child?

(Did you feel the sendings on the ring I gave you?) At the mention of such, Valcan's feelings settled down into light annoyance.

(Yes. Almost every night. I'm sorry I couldn't respond to it.) he said with some guilt in his voice.

(I understand that it is difficult to contact someone.) Ares said quietly, remembering the poor slave strung up between the posts. Valcan caught the tail end of that mental image, and remembered how careful he should be.

(Ares, I want you to know that if I could be there, I would protect you. I'll meet you sometime in the future.) he said with determination.

Ares couldn't help but smile. (Yes. I know. But for now I have Malakaie to hold your place.) Ares felt that anger bubble over from Valcan again, and something in her became very serious.

(I _will_ reclaim my throne in Akrlyn, Valcan, and I will need all the help I can get. I'll find you, and take you back with me.)

(Shit. She found me. Ares, be care-)

And the thread was broken just like that.

(Valcan?) Ares thought desperately. (Valcan?) What did he mean 'she found me'? Then the realization settled on her. _Oh, sweet Darkness, _she thought frantically, _Please don't let him be brutalized because of me. Watch over him_.

* * *

I live!

Again!

Yes. Well, let's see. I lost my motivation for this story for the time being, having it focus on Avatar and a possible ramble in that category.

So, do not get angry with me because you think i'm ignorant and have lost my touch. Oh, no. I'm well aware of how much the last part of that chapter sucked.

So if you feel like puking, I'm not holding you back. I know it was sickeningly sweet. ewww. it just makes me cringe.

And in other notes...

THANK YOU TO CSARA FOR REVIEWING MOST RECENTLY WITH **FERVOR**!

You totally made my day and made me feel like a schmuck for not updating in a long time. Thank you for all the compliments. I can't believe you like this stuff, but okay.

I am eternally grateful

to you and Prophet Wolfstar.

avoir, mes Legionaires


	19. Looks That Kill

Okay, okay, wait. Before you all embark on this most awaited adventure, I have something to say.

_"I've got somethin' to say!"_

You must listen to Looks That Kill by the Motely Crue, only because it seems to fit... musically, not lyrically. That aside, thank you and enjoy!

* * *

4

"What were you doing in here?" Malia, the sister of the Queen Debra inquired after she flicked all of the candle lights on with Witchfire. Valcan was at a loss of an explanation for once in his life. He was always so good at making up some assinine excuse about one thing or another. Where was that ability now?

"No slave should be in the formal drawing room after dark. You should be in your stinking cell." she reprimanded with her hands on her hips.

_Aha_. Valcan thought, _there it is._ As a grin began to part his lips. He rose from the dark corner he had been hiding in during the conversation and kept his ice-blue eyes on the woman. Then he inclined his head, pushing some of his thick blonde hair from his face. Tonight, it was actually combed and tied properly.

"Mi'Lady," he said in his most courteous tone, "I was merely waiting for your _beloved sister_, so I could fulfill my duties and go to my bed, _on the fourth floor_." he said with a touch of emphasis on the last words.

Malia stood there, dumbly for a few moments, and then finally collected herself. "That still doesn't explain why you are in here." she finished with a glare.

Valcan only turned his head very slowly to the left, so to regard her with his other eye.

The woman's eyebrows pursed asshe stared at him.

Then it hit her.

Valcan could see her expression fall very slowly at the implication he was feeding her. He began to grin.

"Well, then. I guess I'll allow my sister her privacy." she said, looking towards her feet, with a small blush growing on her cheeks.

The woman turned around and headed for the door, but not before stealing a glance at the man. His grin had broadened and it infuriated her that he should out-do her, but she narrowed her eyes and stepped out, slamming the door as she went.

Valcan kept the obnoxious grin for as long as she was in the room. Mother Night, how he hated that woman. She was always in the business of the house and was always on the heels of every slave that entered the building. She could care less about the workers on the grounds outside.

That was why Valcan hated being assigned to 'House Chores' as the Lady so called them. Lady Debra was the Queen of the Territory and had a big ego to fit the position. She thought she was the most beautiful and powerful witch in all of Terrielle, when in reality, she was the most disgusting of all the women Valcan had had to serve. And he had some pretty bad owners. Even Lady Talia was a better woman than this one.

Valcan let the grin fall from his face, only to be replaced by a sneer, and strode over to the side door of the Drawing Room. He probed the other side of it for any presence and opened the door, finding it clear of anyone. On the other side of the Drawing Room Door, which was designed to look like a wall, there was a hidden corridor that Valcan had found while scouting the House one night. It had an exit in one place on every floor and lucky enough for him, the exit was 'hidden' by his room on the fourth floor. He had recognized it as a passage instantly when he walked by it the first day he was in the House, even though it was disguised as a large painting. When he had actually been able to explore it, Valcan found that the corridor was in ill repair and most-likely had not been used since Debra had taken the Throne.

The blonde-haired man stepped into the corridor and looked up and down it both ways, just to be certain there was no one there he would have to explain his presence to again. Then Valcan pivoted on his heel and turned towards the west side of the House, towards the stair well that lead upward.

As the man walked, he began to hum a wordless tune to himself. He had always liked to sing. He knew an assortment of melodies for particular events and feelings. Since he had become a slave, he found that he sang dirges and songs of mourning more often.

Tonight, however, Valcan hummed a soft tune he remembered from when he was a boy in Glacia.

He was glad that Ares had finally been able to contact him and that he could answer. It was a shameful business being a male servant in this House. Valcan had been preoccupied almost every night with 'other' business that he couldn't return the sendings with out being caught.

Ares seemed well. Her tone was the same as it had been back in Raej. But who was this Malakaie she spoke of? Immediately at the thought of this other male, Valcan's temper began to broil. He didn't understand what was making him so possessive of this little witch that he only met for three days, but he didn't mind it that much. He liked feeling possessive for someone else. It gave him an awkward feeling of hope, knowing that there was someone else that he knew. He wasn't so alone and didn't feel pointless.

Not to mention that he was a Warlord Prince. That in itself was self-explanatory.

A slight grin parted his lips as he hummed his wordless tune.

* * *

Yes. Motley Crue... as much asI was grappling with myself over what to name this chapter,I had a NIN song or this one. And if you think about it, I was _completely_ phibbing, and leading you on.

So, so sorry. That you thought someone was going to die... tonight... ha.. muha, ha hahahahahaha...

ButI did like writing this installation. I just love how Valcan is an ass and I like how he looks in a suit.

And I know it was all very short and for that, I not only prostrate myself before you, but beg for your forgiveness too, because it has been a while since I last updated, proving I'm, indeed, a schmuck.

ButI received many very encouraging reviews from several new readers that left me just... giggling.

I was very happy to have such nice and competant volunteers join my Legion.

And before I leave you, my wonderful Legionaires, how is it, EXACTLY, that you spell the term _'blonde'_?

Isn't it if you're talking abouta female, there's an 'e' at the end, and if not, it's just 'blond'.

HAS FRENCH TAUGHT ME NOTHING THESE PAST 5 YEARS!

Again, I bid Adieu, My Legion.


	20. The Small Hours

5

A half hour past Midnight, Ares woke up to terrible stomach cramps. She pushed aside her tattered blankets and went to the stinking privy hole that joined two of the Slave shacks. She tried to light a small ball of Witchlight, but her body screamed at the small effort. Wincing, she quickly found a candle and forced herself to take the pain as she lit the candle with a spark of witchfire and looked at her undergarment.

Blood.

_Shit._ She thought. _Not now! I have House Duties this whole week._ Ares frowned in annoyance and frustration. She retrieved a rag from the wash basin and cleaned herself. Then she changed her clothes and washed the cleaning rag.

She knew it was coming. There was nothing Ares could have done to stop her Moon Time. Even if she was able to create a Witch's Brew to hold it off, the pains would have been debilitating the next time it came back.

A witch was never more open for attack and danger than when during her three days of Moon Time. Ares had heard enough stories in the three weeks she'd been in slavery to know that the Moon Time was more of a danger to a witch of lesser status in an Aristo Society, much less a slave.

And now, from serving the House for a few days, she was able to understand the motives of the Lords and Ladies in the Building.

She would have to be very careful. Ares couldn't use her Craft to disguise the scent of her witch's blood, which signaled her time of weaknessespecially to males, or for any other purpose, for that matter, without being caught and presumably punished, whether it be by the Slave Masters or her own body.

The girl walked back to her sleeping roll with the tattered blanket and lay down. Five minutes later, her eyes opened and she had to sit up, the cramps returning. So she scooted herself over to the wall and leaned her back against it, sitting up and riding out the pain, staring through the window on the shot wooden door, watching the moon and stars.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the House, Malakaie lay awake, staring at the moon and stars through the window. It was warm out this night and the heat from the woman next to him was making it very uncomfortable. He glanced at the woman, an instant sneer crossing his beautiful face. Malakaie quietly and smoothly slipped out of the bed and pulled his discarded pants up from the floor andonto his waist,moving over to the window seat so he could stare at the sky and enjoy the early summer breeze. 

He sat, tucking one leg under the other and inhaled deeply when a very much welcomed breeze lifted into the room, cooling his face and bare chest. It caused his long, slightly tousled raven's wing black hair to gently brush his cheeks and fall behind his back. The man smiled a strained but content smile and looked down at the yard. His focus darted from the trees in the dense woods not far from the property line, to the courtyard, and finally, settled on the shoddy dark shacks toward the back of the property.

His thoughts settled on Ares as soon as he saw the make-shift 'village'. He wondered how she was doing, sleeping in those stinking pits. He didn't like it that she was there and he was in the House with _'luxeries'_. He couldn't help but think of her. That girl was a mystery that enticed him and made him need to know her better.

Malakaie had never really felt a pull such as this before.

He had felt it for a girl he knew very long ago, but it had never this strong.

He wondered, brieflly, if it was his Warlord Prince's instincts dictating this, or if it was something more.

Malakaie closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. Another breeze lilted into the room again, causing the Hayllian to take another deep breath.

Instantly his predatory instincts flew to the surface and his head snapped up as his eyes shot open. Immediately, his gaze settled on the dark shacks in the distance.

He could never mistake the scent of Witch's Blood.

But even more hauntingly, he couldn't mistake the reservoir of power underlying the blood scent.

Ares. The brave little witch.

Malakaie's eyes narrowed; the golden iris turning to hard yellow.

It must have just began, other wise the scent wouldn't be so strong. Hopefully no other male would be able to detect it. Maybe he could smell it because he had tuned himself to her psychic scent so well. Maybe that was what would make all the difference in keeping the girl safe from predators.

If the Darkness was merciful, that fact _would_ make all the difference.

For the next three days, Malakaie decided he would have to keep a watchful eye on the young witch, for her sake and his instinct's.

* * *

yes, yes. I know I suck. Me and my short assinine chapters.

But I always love getting reviews from my Legions.

Malakaie is experiencing a little possessive hostility, I see. But this chapter felt a little hollow. Maybe I'll see if I can throw some adjectives in the mix.

like the Santa Claus Is Coming To Town special that was on a mere 10 minutes ago. they seemed to ahve no qualms just throwing scenes in they didn't show the several years before hand.

And let me tell you, I only have a handful of chapters pre-written after this because my muse for this story ran out about a month ago.

Shit. So I'll have to really start thinking about what happens next to appease you wonderful people.

and I'm not being sarcastic. YOU ARE WONDERFUL PEOPLE!

And on another note... I am currently hooked on Slayer. So I was rather disappointed when I couldn't think of a good song of theirs to go along with a name for this chappie.

But Metallica is always a safe and awesome bet to go on... so yes.

Even though they didn't _originally_ do 'the Small Hours'

A band named Holocaust did.

But the 'Tallica version is better.

Until the Later!

Au revoir!


	21. Blister In the Sun

Chapter 6

* * *

1

When the sun rose, Ares was still propped against the wall, her eyes a little reddened and dark circles around them. She hadn't gotten much sleep. The position she managed was uncomfortable at best, and on top of it, her stomach cramps wouldn't let her be for hours on end. She had just been alleviated of their burden a mere ten minutes (moments) ago.

The girl squinted her eyes against the bright morning light that streamed through the door window. She took a breath and began to sit up, deciding it was better to be up early and working instead of the Task Master coming along and jarring her awake, making situations worse.

* * *

Malakaie rose from his bed. His lady had bid him dismissal from her room sometime after he had enjoyed the breeze late last night, and he was more than grateful to be able to shower and sleep without another body next to him. 

However, now it was morning; a new day, which meant he had to be alert and extra nice. For the little witch's sake, of course.

He paused and thought about her. He liked her. She wasn't an ignorant kid who didn't know manners and courtesy to others from right to left. There was a spirit and courage there that inspired others and fueled something very puzzling, indeed.

And that puzzle could very well be what it was that made Malakaie like her enough to except her into his good graces. But for some reason, at the same time, he knew that wasn't quite it either.

The Hayllian paused, furrowing his eyebrows. If that wasn't it, than what was it?

After a moment or two of contemplation, a vicious growl of frustration filled the room and he continued moving into his bathroom to wash for the day.

* * *

(A/N: picture the cook speaking with a wisonsin/canadian accent)

2

"Good morning, Prince." Greeted the rough-looking cook as she noticed the man coming through the door. Malakaie nodded in response and said, "Good morning, Fair Lady," as he continued to stroll towards the counter. He hid his amused expression when he caught the slight blush that had bloomed on the woman's face.

As he approached the counter with the buffet-style dishes of breakfast foods for the house servants, he realized his little witch was nowhere in sight. He couldn't sense her psychic scent,which meant that she had not been through here yet. Would she skip breakfast?

Twitching his mouth, Malakaie came to a dish full of fruit and plucked three apples from the pile. When he turned to eye a loaf of already-sliced bread, the woman cook had come over to the counters and was restocking them with goods.

"Fair Lady, have you seen the young witch come through here this morning?" he asked as he stole four slices and vanished them using Craft.

The cook pretended not to notice. However, she stopped what she was doing and stood up, leaning on the counter defensively.

"There are many young witches serving in this House, Prince. Why do you ask?"Her usual cheery accent had fled from her voice.

Malakaie regarded the woman with a neutral expression. But on the inside he was a bit surprised by the defense this woman put up for her young staff.

He looked the woman straight on in the eye and said solidly, "I was hoping to meet Ares in the kitchen this morning for breakfast, but she doesn't seem to be here." He rose a dark eye brow as he said this.

In turn, the Cook eyed him, trying to make up her mind of whether this man was a good thing for the little sweet heart who started working here two weeks ago, or a bad thing. She couldn't see any lie in his eyes and heard no under tone in his voice. He had always been courteous to herself and the others in the kitchen.

The Cook twitched her lips, making her mind up. She sighed and smiled. "I am sorry Prince." she said, her funny accent returning to her voice. "One of my girls was hurt by one of the Lady's _guests _two nights ago, and I've been over-protective of them." She paused and laughed. "I didn't know you knew Ares. She's such a sweet girl. No. I have not seen her this morning. Not in here, anyway. She mentioned something about clothes yesterday..." she kind of trailed off, suddenly cocked her head to one side, studying Malakaie.

Then an awful grin spread her lips and she began to chuckle, putting her hands on her wide hips.

"Well, Prince, I suppose if you don't mind doing some laundry chores, I can tell you where she is."

* * *

oh man. Malakaie?

Do Laundy?

How Absurd.

Yeah, this chapter was somewhat of a filler. I'm not gonna LIE to you.

And because it was a filler, I decided Blister In the Sun, by the Violent Femmes was good, because it's such a quirky song.

Next chapter will be much better, i promise.

In other news:

I trust you all had a good christmas and New years, my Legions.

I'm going on a full year at come the 21st or whatever

somewhere in there.

I may even include character art for future peeps of this story to celebrate.

And, the most important news in the world:

METALLICA IS BACK IN THE STUDIO!

they're working on a new album which should "Make up for the St. Anger miss-hap"

And I am ready to bust!

"I'm busting Jerry, I'm busting!"

"And that's all I have to say about that."

So, until the later, My Legions!

-your Admiral & Gee-Wizz in heaven


	22. Living In the Sunshine

3

As Malakaie walked down the short corridor to the laundry house he smiled to himself. '_That cook was something else.'_

_Him_.

Do laundry.

An awkward smile turned his lips. He may have been brought into slavery to do field work and pleasure rolls, but he had_ never_ been so demeaned as to do laundry.

The only reason he_ kind of _agreed to what Cook said was because he wanted some time to talk with Ares. He had no intention of _actually_ carrying out the chore.

Finally, he arrived at the Laundry House door and knocked on it quickly. He composed himself and stood, waiting patiently.

No one came to the door.

He rapped on it again andfixed his expression to appear neutral, though he couldn't help by raise his eyes brow as his knock went unanswered for a few moments.

He heard a soft growl from inside the room before he was about to knock again. Finally, the door opened a little and he was met with an exhausted, aggravated-looking witch.

"What- Oh! Malakaie. Good!" She threw the door open. "You can help me with this laundry!" Her tone was a hopeful excited combination as she grabbed Malakaie's arm and practically threw him into the room before he even had a chance to protest.

"I'm the only one in here this morning and for some reason, all of the guests want their laundry done today." Ares explained, holding her arms and hands out in a gesture ofharried annoyance.

She gave a brief smile to him before she turned around and continued washing a shirt in a large wash barrel.

Malakaie sort of stood there, flabbergasted. He looked around the room rigidly and forced himself to stand straight. There were a few mounds of clothing by the door. Next to them were the shadowed forms of two more wash barrels full of water. Scrub brushes and drying racks hung all over the walls, along with several wash boards. Near the wash barrel Ares worked at, Malakaie noted a shelf full of herb jars and sewing kits.

Ares looked over her shoulder and noticed he wasn't working.

"What are you just standing there for? Roll up your sleeves and dig in."

Hearing the tone in her voice, Malakaie snapped to attention and took his jacket off, placing it on a chair next to a table in the middle of the room. Then he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled them over his elbows and walked over to Ares' barrel. Pulling out a washing board, he quickly found a tunic in need of a good scrub down.

To hell with his no-laundry streak.

* * *

4

"Did you sleep well, Prince?" Ares asked politely after about fifteen minutes of what was strained silence for Malakaie. He was just about done scrubbing the material (literally)off of the shirt. Ares pretended not to notice.

"Hmm?" he asked, a little distracted by the shirt. "Sleep." Ares said again.

"Oh, yes." he looked up from his work and watched Ares professionally scrub the stain out of a pair of trousers. "It was a lovely moon last night." And he turned back to the shirt with more or less material.

Ares paused when he said that, her shoulders slumping a little. Then she stood up and walked over to the clothes line by the back of the hut.

She had seen the moon. And it was lovely, indeed. It was just she was forced to watch it into the early hours of the morning because of her body's discomfort.

As she clipped the trousers on the clothes line to dry, a barrage of cramps racked her abdomen and she let out a slight hiss as she gently placed her hand over her stomach. The hiss caught Malakaie's attention and he dropped the shirt back into the barrel as he looked over and stood up.

"Ares, are you alright?" he asked, with a slight stern tone in his voice. He walked over to her, stopping a good four feet away. The scent of Moon's Blood was strong enough for him to faintly detect. Perhaps that was what put that edge in his voice.

The girl glanced at him when he had asked if she was alright. She didn't like that edge she caught.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some cramps." She took a small breath and waved her hand in dismissal as she began walking back to the barrel again.

When she came up to Malakaie's side, he turned and gently put his hand on her arm. "Are you sure, Lady?" he worked to keep his tone even this time. He knew when he spoke before it had thrown the girl off.

Ares looked up at him and smiled, saying, "I'm positive. I just...my stomach is just a little upset. That's all."

He knew she was lying. Lying straight through her teeth. And it made him aggravated that she didn't trust him to tell him she was in her weakened state.

However, he didn't argue what she said, and didn't badger her about it. He just dropped his arm, and waited for her to pass before turning and walking back to the barrel as well.

Ares had picked up another garment and had began to scrub that as well, when she noticed Malakaie was having trouble getting the stain out of a table cloth. She draped her garment on the wash board and with a slight laugh moved over to Malakaie's side of the barrel.

"You're doing it wrong." she said with a laugh. A broad smile was on her face as she pulled the cloth up and massaged soap into the material with her fingers. Then she had to move closer to the man to scrub it on the wash board he used.

Malakaie watched as she expertly managed to rub most of the wine stain out and keep the material in tact.

"Here," she said as she grabbed his arm and put the cloth into his hand. "You have to use your fingers. And make sure you get a lot of soap into it, or else it won't come out." Then she took his other hand and began to move his finger on the material the way she had done.

And in all of this, Malakaie was distracted. Being so close to her, he could smell her full psychic scent and felt her feminine power wash through his arms when she touched them. He savored the whole experience, reveling in the clean, cold force that her touch brought.

"Now you do it by yourself." she said cheerily. Malakaie snapped out of his inner self just in time to hear her say that, and concentrated on what he had seen her do.

He managed to pull it off. He actually managed to clean the cloth with out destroying the thread count. A slight grin parted his lips as he looked at it, and then to the girl.

She had a proud smile as she watched him. "Wonderful job, Malakaie."

He loved it when she smiled. He made his mind up about that right then. But before he managed to make her feel uncomfortable with all of the smiling, he decided to say something.

"So that's all you do?"

"Yep. Just make sure to rinse it out really well before drying it."

"What? Like this?" he crumpled the cloth into a ball and submerged it under water. He knew he was doing it wrong, but he wanted an excuse to have her near him again.

With an exasperated sigh, she marched back over to where he was and submerged her arms into the water to stop him.

"No! No!" she tried to sound forceful, but couldn't help laughing at the end. She pulled the cloth from the water and undid its crumpled mess, with Malakaie still holding onto a portion of it.

"You're killing it!" she giggled as they played a sort of tug-of-war with the material. The two struggled to free it from the other- Malakaie actually chuckling from the fight she was putting up.

When he pulled the cloth towards him, forgetting his own strength, Ares was flung forward with it. She fell onto his side, laughing from it all. Then she took a breath and rested a bit, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Malakaie turned his head to look down on her and gave a weak smile. When she turned her head upward, she began to smile as well.

At that moment, Malakaie felt this urge like he had never felt before. His heart started beating faster and he felt some of the blood rush from his head. He went to say something, but the breath caught in his lungs.

"Can I just take a break on you?" Ares asked, a little breathless. Malakaie managed to nod his head twice. She responded by leaning into him, and just relaxing next to him on the floor.

He didn't know what to say or do. For the first time in his life as a slave, he didn't know what to do. May the Darkness be merciful.

He felt the girl's head shift a little on his shoulder and he, having regained a little composure, looked down to where her gaze had settled. His arms. So he raised his left arm towards her and asked, "Yes?"

Ares seized his wrist and began to trace the design of the serpent.

"Where did you get these?" she asked softly, as if she were about to fall asleep.

Malakaie studied his arm for a moment, recollecting the events that lead to the designs being burned onto his skin. He frowned at that as he brushed his fingers over the serpent.

Then he moved his hand gently, and clasped the girl's between both of his hands. He kept his gaze fixed on the distance.

"That story, Lady," he said in a solemn tone, "is better suited for another day."

* * *

I LLLLLIIIVVVVVVEEEEE!

I am sorry. I neglected you wonderful legions again.

and then i go and try to make it up to you with that pissant filler chapter that was inexcusibly short, even for me.

so here i am, your admiral, rewarding you for your faith and willingness to read my jumbled rubbish with a fun almost fluff chapter of friggin' excitement.

"Man, it's like my POOL is _tearin' ass_ in the backyard."

So yes. Malakaie learned a few things today.

1: He now figured out how to successfully ruin a shirt

2: He also now knows the proper way to clean said shirt

3: He likes Ares A LOT

4: (not reli him but you) Now know that he is AWESOME.

I loove him and Valcan. Out of all the male characters that will be introduced,it's them two that i love. like the rabbit from Monty Python.

yes. so

ps. should i do Metallica as my concentration theme in Ap art or Family Portraits?

Please let me know

"Let me know... if you see a Radio Shack."

until the later, mes Legionaires.

Your ambiguously wonderful Admiral


End file.
